Castle and Beckett: Fifty Things
by DemonClowSorceress
Summary: Seventh of my Fifty Things stories! Castle and Beckett, you're up! K plus for whatever may show up. COMPLETE!
1. Prompts

**Castle and Beckett: Fifty Things**

**By: DemonClowSorceress**

**Fifty Things, number seven! Geez, I have no life if I'm this far along. Now, without further ado, Castle and Beckett!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own_ Castle, _that right belongs to ABC and Andrew W. Marlowe.**

* * *

><p>#1 - Coffee<p>

It's a familiar ritual that they've had forever. It's also an adorably obvious sign of affection.

#2 - Chair

Two of his favorite places in the world could be viewed from two very different thrones.

#3 - Muse

She never realized just how much the relationship meant to him.

#4 - Badge

It was truly her shield, protecting her from the world that had hurt her. But to him, it was just a bit of metal.

#5 - Fixture

He'd become the 12th's unofficial mascot or something.

#6 - Snicker

"Why the hell must she always be NAKED?" Beckett yelled, making more than one head whip around in surprise.

#7 - Greetings

He always had something witty to say when she called him.

#8 - Calender

The days had completely blurred together until she walked up to him three months after hell.

#9 - Wife

With all the advice, heartache, and laughs she gave him, she really was the closest he had to one.

#10 - Midnight

It was a dark and stormy night...when he heard a knock at his front door.

#11 - Initial

She knew the second he turned around that he was going to be trouble.

#12 - Fidget

Riding a desk made her an anal-retentive OCD mad woman.

#13 - Crash

It's rare that she is so physically dependent on him, but Castle doesn't complain or crow about it.

#14 - Honorable

He didn't tell her how he felt. He couldn't monopolize her happiness or bear her rejection.

#15 - Apples

That word got a lot of use with them.

#16 - Towel

His throat constricted as his eyes bugged out in shock. "Beckett? What the...?"

#17 - Natalie

Being completely copied from hair to habits was creepy. Being asked by said copy to sleep with Castle was beyond wrong.

#18 - Reconsider

Believing in magic was pointless...wasn't it?

#19 - Poker

With pride and gummy bears on the line, they squared off to settle the stalemate.

#20 - Plotlines

You had to admit, sometimes the writer really did come in handy. His mind could process more scenarios than most cops ever considered.

#21 - Mystery

He knew he'd never completely solve her. But that's what intrigued him.

#22 - Motivation

She knew exactly how to light a fire under his lazy butt.

#23 - Fight

The day after that, he stopped showing up.

#24 - Intervention

Lanie all but dragged her down to autopsy and shouted, "Girl, stop second-guessing yourself and go kiss that man senseless!"

#25 - Disappearance

The discovery made him vanish within himself, and Beckett was the only one who could talk him back.

#26 - Daughter

Alexis would worry about him, but she felt that she was leaving him in good hands.

#27 - Turnabout

Fair play is fair play.

#28 - Declaration

They were not expecting their super-serious Beckett to shout "Bam, said the lady!" and slap Castle a high five.

#29 - Snippets

They drop little hints about their pasts that only make them want to know more.

#30 - Johanna

She smiled when she heard her brunette daughter's laughter mingling with her husband's.

#31 - Searing

He couldn't get her out of his mind. She couldn't keep him out of her thoughts.

#32 - Pigtails

He couldn't help pulling at them. He had the irrational fear that if he didn't, he'd lose her.

#33 - Green

Jealousy did not suit either of them. And yet they continued to wear it out and about.

#34 - Impression

First thing every new person asks, without fail: "Are you two together?"

#35 - Wordsmith

Funny how when it came down to the wire, he couldn't say a damn thing to stop her.

#36 - 3XK

When the bodies started to drop, she made sure Castle was never out of her sight for a moment.

#37 - Ring

It hung from her neck like Marley's chains, its links forged not from mistakes, but regrets.

#38 - Child

She really found his immaturity kind of endearing. Annoying, but cute.

#39 - Intersection

Sometimes they almost met up, but some obstacle always had one veering away before arrival.

#40 - Crutch

She never admitted it, but his novels really kept her going through everything.

#41 - Magic

He didn't want ordinary, and he never got it with her.

#42 - Rise

Like a phoenix, he knew she'd emerge from the ashes in a vibrant display of fire.

#43 - Cuddle

Long days at the precinct sometimes demanded time on the couch.

#44 - Universe

He believed that it kept them together. She thought it had a twisted sense of humor.

#45 - Always

It's their own special, understated, completely unique way of saying everything that ever needs to be said.

#46 - Character

He didn't like playing favorites, but he'd always had a soft spot for Nikki that never completely faded.

#47 - Telepathy

It was a weird gift, and they used it far too much to be considered normal.

#48 - Serenity

She woke up content. Something that hadn't happened in many years.

#49 - Ghostwriter

For sh*ts and giggles, she opened the Word document on his laptop and started typing.

#50 - Partners

Castle and Beckett, Heat and Rook. It took a killer to bring them into being, and several more to forge an unbreakable bond.

* * *

><p><strong>So, what do you think? Hate it? Love it? Want one-shots?<strong>

**Review and lemme know!**


	2. Coffee

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #1: Coffee - It's a familiar ritual that they've had forever. It's also an adorably obvious sign of affection.**

**Words: 502**

* * *

><p>Ever since that first time almost four years ago, he's brought her coffee. Every single morning.<p>

It's his cute way of saying, somewhat subtly, that he cares about her.

He knows what she likes. As a writer, as he's said time and again, he notices the little details. Her order is never too strong, too weak, or too sweet. It's always perfect. After four years, it's no surprise she's come to expect it with his arrival.

Sometimes he switches it up. Holidays mean a small little flavor shot in her morning caffiene. Halloween saw a smidgen of pumpkin flavor; Christmas had cinnamon; Valentine's Day had chocolate flavoring; whenever she had a bad day, there was a shot of caramel. They were little things, but they showed a level of care she wasn't accustomed to seeing.

Once, her coffee was stolen. It was at that point that Beckett realized just how much the gesture meant to her. She'd pulled Castle aside and vented about the principle of the thing. When he didn't seem half as bothered by it as she did, she had to wonder if he thought it was as important as she'd come to think of it.

Sometimes they can't fully show how much they've come to care and rely on each other. The coffee has become their proxy for those confusing and somewhat uncertain emotions. It's safe, not to mention delicious and helpful to jump-start those pesky brain cells when you have to roll out to a crime scene at 2AM.

It doesn't mean any more than what they want it to mean.

It's his way of being helpful without being annoying.

It's her way of accepting his help without making him get a swelled head.

Everyone else sees it as what it should be - a cute exchange between partners in every sense of the word.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, detective," Castle said pleasantly, walking into the precinct with his customary two cups of coffee. "How are we on this fine day?"<p>

She reached for the coffee without looking, and he put it in her hand without being told. "We are very tired after looking through the victim's financials," she said. "Where have you been, Castle?"

"I made waffles for breakfast," he replied. "If I knew you'd pull an all-nighter, I would've brought breakfast with your coffee."

"I think I'll survive on the caffiene, thanks."

Two desks over, Ryan and Esposito smirked at each other. _They are so flirting, _Esposito mouthed to his partner.

_Why don't they just get together already? _Ryan replied.

They rolled their eyes, then moved on to their work. Actual movement in the partnership of cop and writer would be a long way coming.

But at least their denial was fueled by good coffee.

* * *

><p><strong>Let's get the Caskett party started right!<strong>

**Review please!**


	3. Chair

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #2: Chair - Two of his favorite places in the world could be viewed from two very different thrones.**

**Words: 481**

* * *

><p>Richard Castle liked chairs. From them, he could properly think and plot a story without needing to worry about anything more than arm's distance from himself. Any place where he could rest his butt for a time was technically a good place for him to write. The booth in the Old Haunt had been his first experience, and following that he had found many chairs, many booths, many corners where Derrick Storm and his other characters had related their adventures to him.<p>

But within the last few years, he'd grown fond of the view he had from two different chairs. Both were pleasant to experience, both were familiar to him, and both had something fresh to offer him.

His first chair was the one in his study. An obvious choice, since he practically lived in it when he was making a deadline. It was comfy, it reclined and swiveled, and he could amuse himself by racing around the room on the wheels when he should've been working. It was the throne of his house; the perch could see everything in the loft when he was seated just right. He could see Alexis studying, or his mother scurrying around the loft as she got ready for whatever role or lesson she had to give at her acting studio. If he so chose, he could shut the door, put his feet up on his desk, rest his laptop on his legs, and type his hours away.

His other chair was not comfy, reclining, swivel, or mounted on wheels. No, it was just a simple chair next to a desk in the middle of the 12th Precinct. But the view was just as enjoyable. He could watch Beckett pore over her paperwork, or look at the murder board, or even wax theory and motive with her. If he so chose, he could sit there for hours and help her narrow down suspects and motives for the case.

Both chairs were markedly different in many ways, location- and comfort-wise. In one, he was at ease and creating scenarios to kill people and have them be caught by a sexy NYPD detective. In the other, he was at attention and solving actual crimes alongside a sexy NYPD detective.

Okay, so the sexy NYPD detective was a key feature in both scenes. But there was still a difference - in one, she was a real person. In the other, she was a fictional character based off a real person.

Nikki Heat, while fictional, was the sassy, sexy NYPD detective who lightened up his study while telling her stories to him.

Kate Beckett was the sassy, sexy NYPD detective who brightened up the precinct while solving cases with him.

But both made Castle feel invincible no matter where he was.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>


	4. Muse

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle _or any of its characters.**

**Prompt #3: Muse - She never realized just how much the relationship meant to him.**

**Words: 451**

* * *

><p>Beckett had never truly understood the depth of this "muse-writer" relationship she had with Castle until Alex Conrad breezed into the precinct.<p>

Yes, he was charming and witty. A little cocky, just like Castle, and almost as eager to prove himself. With one bestseller already under his belt, no wonder he wanted to meet the woman who had inspired Castle's latest series.

When Conrad started to flirt, Castle shut him down faster than a dog pissing on a spark plug.

Yes, his gift of a breakfast muffin basket was adorable. And original - for a first date (not that she would call talking about procedure a first date, because it was SO NOT a date) she usually got a bouquet of roses, which she thought of as impractical. But muffins were useful, not to mention delicious.

When he heard about their evening, Castle tensed up faster than a claustrophobe in a coffin.

Which was completely ridiculous. She hadn't felt anything for Conrad. She'd just talked to him about procedure so that he'd be able to write about it better in his next book.

Yes, she defended him once she found out that Castle had pretty much thrown him to the seasoned writers' proverbial pack of wolves. It was petty, and somewhat immature, and borderline hazing.

When she confronted him about it, Castle caved like a house of cards.

However, when she'd called Castle out on his jealousy, Beckett had been very surprised that he admitted it. Childish as he was, Castle didn't seem like the type to admit any sort of weakness to her. At least, not intentionally.

However, he did now. He said how angry it had made him, and jealous, and petty. He told her how he wanted her all to himself.

It was the most adamant he'd ever been about their relationship, and it made Beckett's heart skip a beat. It was sweet, it was charming, and it was somewhat refreshing to know that she was his only one. So she reassured him that she wouldn't be hanging out with Conrad again, that she was a "one-writer girl."

She wanted to tell him more. So much more. How he'd fast become the hopeful "once and done" she'd always wanted. How knowing that he cared about her enough to sabotage another writer was something almost chivalrous in her eyes.

But she couldn't. Not yet. Not while so much of her life was still in turmoil. So Beckett decided to go to their old fallback.

When he thanked her, she replied, "Always."

* * *

><p><strong>Little tag to 3x21 "The Dead Pool" here.<strong>

**Review please!**


	5. Badge

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #4: Badge - It was truly her shield, protecting her from the world that had hurt her. But to him, it was just a bit of metal.**

**Words: 539**

* * *

><p>Castle looked around the precinct bullpen covertly. Making sure no detectives were around, he pulled out his lockpick set (which he had picked up during his many escapades with the NYPD) and picked her top drawer.<p>

Beckett should've known the consequences of leaving him unsupervised by now.

The drawer was open in a matter of seconds. Not surprisingly, he's gotten fairly good at picking locks. Comes with being a bestselling author who makes a living writing crime novels; you learn a wide variety of skills with questionable legality.

Castle only had to root around for a few seconds before coming up with his prize. Beckett's shield, put in there while she did her morning workout down in the gym. Picking it up, the writer held up the object and examined it in the early morning light.

It was truly amazing, he thought, the power this bit of bronze was given. Ordinary people seemed to gain a sense of authority and power from wearing it. Victims of crimes got a sense of relief from seeing it. Complete strangers grew chatty once it's flashed in their general direction. Bad guys flee from its bearers in desperation.

Not that he didn't respect the badge. Far from it. He respected the hell out of the badge.

No, he was just amazed at how some people could made it seem so much bigger than it actually was. Mainly Beckett. Well, she believed that those who had the shield should act like they deserve it. He agreed with that, but not with how she herself uses it.

No, she used the badge as its actual form - a shield. She hid behind her badge whenever the emotions of her personal life threatened to overwhelm her. She did it with her mother's case. She did it with Sorenson. She did it with Demming. She did it with Josh.

She did it with Castle too, but he wasn't so in awe of the badge that he let her get away with it.

After all, he was a man-child, to use her words. Respect only went so far with him. He respected the badge and all who wore it, but he didn't go slack-jawed and compliant just because a cop said to back the hell off. That was just plain dumb.

Castle was a writer. Writers don't back off because they're told to. How else would one get the whole story?

However, he wasn't a total bastard about it. He didn't push beyond what he thought he could get away with. He let her have her privacy. He let her have space.

But if Beckett blatantly cowered behind her badge, Castle pushed and poked and prodded until he made her stand up and wear the goddamn thing where it belonged. On her hip, not over her head.

"Castle! What are you doing in my desk?"

"Nothing invasive," he called back, giving her a cocky grin as he put the badge back in the drawer.

As he said, he respected it. He wasn't in awe of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>


	6. Fixture

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle__. _However, the OC is mine.**

**Prompt #5: Fixture - He'd become the 12th's unofficial mascot or something.**

**Words: 1,137**

* * *

><p>Detective Miranda "Ash" Reynolds stood in front of the NYPD 12th precinct, taking a deep breath of New York City air to calm her nerves. A detective from the 42nd precinct's Arson division, she was now going to work at the 12th under Victoria "Iron" Gates in Homicide. It was going to be an amazing experience.<p>

Miranda headed inside and made her way upstairs to Homicide. She stood in the entryway and let herself examine this new environment. Apparently they'd just caught a fresh case, as evident by the whiteboard covered in pictures, scribbles, and a timeline.

"Detective Reynolds?" Miranda saw Iron Gates herself waving from her office. Remembering everything she knew about the former IA detective, Miranda headed over. She could feel eyeballs from every cop in the room on her.

And she saw one man, a civilian, standing out in their midst like a virgin in a maternity ward, watching her just as closely.

Gates shut the doors after her. "Well, Detective, it's good to have you here. I understand you've made quite a name for yourself in the 42nd's Arson squad. "Ash" was it?"

Miranda nodded. "Yes Captain, that's what they called me."

"Well then, Reynolds, just to let you know, I run a tight ship here," Gates said, sitting behind her desk. "You're here on request because, frankly, this case is baffling. Report to Detective Beckett in the bullpen. She'll give you the information you'll need. You report to her."

Miranda nodded once again. "Yes ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am. It's sir, or Captain."

"Yes sir."

* * *

><p>Beckett wasn't there, but there was the civilian from earlier sitting next to her desk. Unsure of where to go, Miranda walked up to an officer and said, "Who's the guy at Beckett's desk?"<p>

He didn't even have to look. "That's Rick Castle."

"The novelist?" Miranda clarified.

"One and the same. He's been around here for, oh, almost four years now? Shadows Beckett around on scenes. Says she's his inspiration for Nikki Heat."

Miranda had read the Heat series, so she nodded. "Wow. And he's actually useful?"

"Yeah. Say, you the arson detective from the 42nd?" When she nodded the officer chuckled. "Have fun with them. You always get weird cases with Beckett's team."

Now armed with some information, Miranda headed over to meet this Castle fellow. He seemed to be a handsome piece of man, but she reserved judgment until after. "Mr. Castle?"

He looked up and saw her. "Oh, hi. You looking for Detective Beckett?"

She held out her hand. "In time. I'm Detective - "

"Miranda Reynolds, from the 42nd, right?" he finished, shaking her hand. "Right. You're the arson investigator who proved that Manhatten couple was actually murdered by the fire and it wasn't an accident."

Her surprise showed. "You've read up on me?"

"A little." He gestured to the murder board. "Looks like this case may be right up your alley." She only managed to glance over the information before he interrupted. "So what's with the nickname?"

"Huh?" Miranda asked, not really paying attention.

"Your nickname. Ash, was it?"

"Oh, that. The older guys call me that because on my first case, I got covered in ashes when the rafters above me disintegrated. I looked like I'd been through a volcanic ash storm. It stuck." She pointed to one picture of the body. "Well, he definitely died there. See his arms curling up in front of him? Classic defense position. Only the living want to protect. The dead don't give a damn."

Castle nodded. "Yeah, Dr. Parish already confirmed COD was from inhaling superheated air."

Miranda's gray eyes darted over the crime scene pictures. "Can't tell for sure without seeing and smelling the place, but it looks like there was an accelerant used. A lot of the lame stuff, or a little of the good stuff." She saw him pull out his notepad and blinked. "Um, what're you doing?"

"Writing that down. Maybe if you're lucky, you can have a cameo in my next book." He looked happier than a kid with candy. "Hmmm, title could be Blazing Heat. Oooo! Heat Flash."

"Are you reaching that age now, Castle?" asked a new female voice sarcastically. A woman with long brunette hair came up and sat in the desk next to Castle's chair. "Hormonal imbalances messing with you? You know you can take a pill for that, right?"

Castle gave a very dry, very forced series of ha's before gesturing to Miranda. "Detective Beckett, Detective Reynolds. Miranda and I were theorizing about new book titles featuring arson."

"Castle, don't you dare," Beckett snapped, totally serious. "I don't care how much money they make, it's getting stupid how much you do that."

"Doing what? Utilizing my creative talents by using life to write fine literature?"

"Fine? Ha! Run down to the corner store and get some orange juice. Extra pulp for that fiction."

"Humph! Just for that, I'm putting an extra-slutty scene in there for you!"

In the background of their bickering, Miranda edged away and introduced herself to the two detectives who'd followed Beckett into the bullpen. They introduced themselves as Esposito and Ryan, part of Beckett's team. "You'll get used to this," Esposito told the arson specialist. "They fight like a married couple, but it's cool."

"And everyone's cool with this?" Miranda asked. Looking around, she saw that nobody was even bothering to look up from their paperwork to watch this (she thought) fascinating battle of words and wit.

Ryan rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Fine? This is practically golf commentary for us. Background noise."

"Wow." She gave the arguing writer and cop pair a grin. "Wonder what will happen if I decide to stick around a while after this case?"

"Always welcome to see. Just know this," Esposito advised. "No matter how bad it sounds or gets, Castle will always be there the next morning. He's like a bad penny the way we can't get rid of him."

_Or, _thought Miranda silently as she returned to looking at the crime scene photos, _he's pretty damn sure about why he's here, and it's not just because of a book series_.

But for now, they had a murder to solve. Clearing her throat, Miranda said, "Hey, just to interrupt, can I see the crime scene?"

* * *

><p><strong>So, I decided to pull a cute one and start doing what the show does. Anyone spot the <em>Firefly<em> tribute? Keep your eyes peeled for more!**

**Review please!**


	7. Snicker

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #6: Snicker - "Why the hell must she always be NAKED?" Beckett yelled, making more than one head whip around in surprise.**

**Words: 555**

* * *

><p>You'd think she'd be used to it by now. I mean, it's been that way for the last three books.<p>

Heat Wave, holding her gun up. Naked Heat, draped over a typewriter. Heat Rises, behind the title.

Each time, Nikki's strategically placed silhouette is undoubtedly posing _au naturale_. Standing, lying down, holding her gun - any which way, she's clearly wearing her birthday suit.

So when the tentative cover art for his next novel came out online, Beckett was completely ready for almost anything Castle could come up with.

Except _that_.

"Castle!" She screamed loud enough to make even the cops in the elevator wince. "Get your ass out here right now! Move it!"

He came out bearing a cup of coffee from that espresso machine for her. Quickly leaving the sacrificial caffiene on the desk, he backed up quickly. "Whatever you think I did this time, I swear to God and on my daughter's head that I didn't do it."

Beckett fixed him with an angry glare. She leveled a finger at her computer screen and snapped, "_That_, Richard Castle. _That_ is what I'm blaming on you."

"Oh, _that_," he sighed. "Okay, that I did have a little hand in creating. But you've gotta admit, it's smokin'."

"She's in total profile. Leveling a gun at the reader. Naked!" She said the last word in a raised voice, but still quiet so as not to let anyone else hear. A moot point, since everyone was listening in anyway.

Castle stared at her, waiting for the punch line. When none appeared, he said, "So?"

"So?" Now Beckett was beyond angry. "We talked about this, Castle. I don't want a naked Nikki Heat on the covers. It's embarrassing!"

"Beckett - "

She plowed on through. "Do you know how bad I get razzed when the newest one comes out?"

"Wait, Beckett - "

"Not to mention all the crap I get when people actually _read_ the book and get to the sex scenes - "

"Beckett, let me - "

" - believe you keep doing this, Castle! Why don't you just - "

"Kate!" Castle shouted, cutting her off. "That's the least risque of all the ones the artists came up with," he explained patiently. "There was one where she was laying on a bed - "

"Okay, okay!" she said, holding up her hands to stop him. Around the precinct, some people looked like the Cheshire Cat had just dematerialized, leaving only his smiling grin behind over their face. "I get it already." Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment.

Castle grinned boyishly. "Why Detective Beckett, did I just embarrass you?"

_Yes. _"No," she said instead, huffing as she picked up the coffee and took a long sip. With a decisive click, she closed the window with the cover art. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" he objected with that smug grin.

"You weren't saying anything very loudly."

Castle shrugged. "A gift."

"Do you still have the receipt?"

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>

**And for those who noticed the _Firefly _reference in the last chapter, kudos to you! Those who didn't, it was the arson detective, Miranda (planet from _Serenity_) Reynolds (Mal, in other words, Nathan Fillion's character).**


	8. Greetings

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle. _But I do own Det. Miranda Reynolds, my OC.**

**Prompt #7: Greetings - He always had something witty to say when she called him.**

**Words: 824**

* * *

><p>Normal people say "Hello," when they answer their phones. But then again, Richard Castle wasn't anything close to a normal person.<p>

He always had some sort of charming, witty remark to say when Kate Beckett called him. A fact that somehow brought her a measure of amusement in her case-heavy days.

When she called, Beckett always had to take a steadying breath to calm her heart rate. For some reason, hearing his voice over the phone was almost as bad as hearing him speak face-to-face. Maybe because now, she could imagine that boyish smirk in the lilt of his voice.

"_Why good morning, Detective. Do we have an appointment with Dr. Parish and a dead man today?_"

_His voice is starting to damage my calm, _she thought. "Dead woman, Castle. Sixth and Lexington. Get your butt down here."

"_So surly, Beckett? No coffee yet, huh?_"

"It's a media circus down here. I barely had time to run a brush through my hair."

"_Bed head Beckett?_" His voice took on a gleeful tone that had the homicide detective considering possible ways to dispose of his corpse. "_Well that's a charming image to have. I'll be right down. With coffee, so stop scowling._"

"I'm not," she snapped, putting on a neutral look.

"_I'll bet._"

True to his word, he arrived within twenty minutes bearing coffee for her.

* * *

><p>Normal people aren't chipper as chipmunks when their cell phone goes off at the butt-crack of dawn. Even when said phone is displaying the face and number of a certain female homicide detective. But Richard Castle prided himself on being as far from normal as possible.<p>

So when he answered the phone, he did it with a smile and a quip. "Why Detective Beckett, you're up early. What's the occassion?"

"_Castle?_"

Something in her voice made him sit up straight in bed, all humor forgotten. She sounded like she'd been crying. "Kate, what's wrong?" he asked, concern making him use her given name without thinking.

"_I, uh, just...it's nothing, nevermind._" And before he could ask again, she hung up on him.

Castle hit her speed-dial button, then waited. When she picked up, he glibly said, "Can you hear me now?"

"_Castle, I told you it was nothing,_" she insisted.

"Forgive me if I don't believe you." Trying to be gentle but firm, Castle said, "Look, you want to grab breakfast before heading into the precinct? My treat."

She hesitated - a sure sign that her resolve was weakening. "_I - you don't have to..._"

"I want to. Come on over, okay?"

He'd never dressed faster than he did that morning. Twenty minutes later, Beckett was at his front door and he had a chipper smile ready for her.

* * *

><p>It was a hot, muggy July morning when another body dropped uptown. Beckett was too busy trying to wrangle an answer from the uncooperative witness on scene, so she took out her phone and shoved it at Detective Miranda Reynolds. "Here. Call Castle and tell him to get his ass down here, and if he doesn't bring me iced coffee, I'll shoot him in the face."<p>

By now Miranda was all-too-familiar with the moody shifts of Detective Kate Beckett, so she didn't question the older woman's words. Instead she scrolled through Beckett's contacts and searched for Castle's number.

Imagine her surprise when she saw that the writer was listed as number one on the detective's speed dial. Grinning, Miranda depressed the 1 and held the phone to her ear.

Castle answered on the third ring. "_Why Detective Beckett, are you calling me to join you for a romantic rendez-vous at Chez Crime Scene?_"

Miranda chuckled. "Hi Castle, it's Reynolds."

A spewing sound was heard, like he'd spat out a mouthful of liquid in shock. "_Miranda?_" he choked. "_Wha - Why - Where's Beckett?_"

"Wringing info from a witness. She says you better bring iced coffee or she'll shoot you in the face upon arrival," she replied blithely.

He swallowed audibly. "_Thanks for the heads up._"

"Want another? Bring a large iced coffee. She's especially annoyed."

Ten minutes later, he arrived bearing just that. As he took his position next to Beckett, Miranda smiled to herself. _No wonder she always looks so much happier after she calls him to a crime scene. With a greeting like that, who wouldn't crack a smile?_

* * *

><p><strong>Just something I thought of after hearing so many Castle phone greetings. Came out kind of cute!<strong>

**Review please!**


	9. Calender

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #8: Calender - The days had completely blurred together until she walked up to him three months after hell.**

**Words: 373**

* * *

><p>He's been stuck since she told him, "I'll call you." That long-ago promise made his time stop, trapping him in a bubble of a world that no longer appealed to him.<p>

Seven million, seven-hundred-seventy-six thousand seconds.

Each is a slow, torturous tick of the second hand that makes him want to tear out his hair and take a hammer to smash every single damn clock. They repeat, never changing and never moving forward. He's stuck, and it sucks. Rage begins to boil at his frozen state.

One-hundred-twenty-nine thousand, six hundred minutes.

Each turns over and over into a cycle that slowly drives him more insane. There's no end to them, and they don't stop moving. But he's still stuck, and it's irritating. His anger's beginning to cool.

Two-thousand, one-hundred and sixty hours.

Every one felt longer and longer as each rolled into the next. They stretch like rubber bands with no limit, taut but showing no signs of stress. He's still stalling, and now his anger fades away, replaced with something calmer. Stasis is reached.

Ninety days.

That's how long it takes him to consider that his waiting is turning a waste of time. That he's finally hitting that stretch he swore he'd never walk - the stretch of boredom with normalcy. Stasis is becoming normal, and ordinary. He hates ordinary...but it helps him forget the pain.

Twelve weeks.

That's how long it takes for him to begin thinking about finding something - another book, another character, another muse, anything - that can drag him from this rut and set him back on that highway of glitz and glamor and fun.

Three months.

That's how long he keeps thinking along those lines, over and over and over like a messed-up merry-go-round in the mental hospital.

He's been stuck for so long, he's almost forgotten how to live.

Until that last day, at the book signing, when he hears that voice once again.

"Kate. Make it out to Kate."

Then his clocks all reset, and time moves forward again.

* * *

><p><strong>Double update for you all! This came out all at once after watching 4x01 "Rise" again.<strong>

**Review please!**


	10. Wife

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #9: Wife - With all the advice, heartache, and laughs she gave him, she really was the closest he had to one.**

**Words: 485**

* * *

><p>She gave him advice on everything. Whether it had to do with his personal life, with Alexis, or with this job that he helped her with, Beckett was always there with a kind word or a guiding tidbit for him.<p>

His personal life was always an interesting knot of writing, shadowing, hijinks and mayhem. Mostly around her. But whenever something in a case hit him just a little too close to home, Beckett could tell him the straight-up deal. A prime example was the Damien Westlake affair. He'd been fixated on proving that his old friend wasn't a killer, but Beckett had told him the truth - that his ideal for Damien Westlake had been created when he was the lonely fourteen-year-old kid in boarding school, craving attention and praise.

With Alexis, he did the best he could to be the greatest dad ever. But sometimes he knew he fell short. After all, Alexis was a growing teenage girl. Castle could imagine how to creatively murder people, but when it came to things that teenage girls said and did and thought, he didn't have that good of an imagination. Beckett, however, had first-hand experience into the wonderful world of a growing girl. From boyfriends to independence to emotional turmoil, she had all the answers.

Solving murder was something they had their own types of expertise. He fictionally did it for kicks, giggles, and, as a sidebar, a paycheck. She really did it for a living. So it was concieveable that she would know things that he didn't. That list got considerably shorter as the years went on, but there were still some aspects that Castle wasn't entirely sure about. Beckett helped him fill in those gaps.

* * *

><p>The first person to mention it was Esposito. The boys had been waxing theory about a particular case when Esposito said, "Better call up your work wife and let her know what's up."<p>

Castle's phone was already out and dialing Beckett's number before the sentence truly permeated his brain. Beckett answered, and his first reaction was to hang up. He was that shocked by what Esposito had pointed out.

He never had any use for the W-word anymore. After two spins around the block, it was just simpler to remain single. But a work W-word was something he hadn't ever heard used in conjunction with him.

The rest of the day was spent thinking over this realization. How Beckett had been there much like a W-word was. How Beckett was good with Alexis, just like he'd hoped a W-word could be. How she could always explain things to him, even when he thought he knew what they were talking about.

_Oh God, _he thought in shock. _She **is **_my work-wife.__

* * *

><p><strong>This could have gone better, but I like it anyway.<strong>

**Review please!**


	11. Midnight

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #10: Midnight - It was a dark and stormy night...when he heard a knock at his front door.**

**Words: 1,081**

* * *

><p>Storms in New York City were always an exciting affair at the Castle loft. Thanks to huge floor-to-ceiling windows that opened to a fantastic display, all thunderstorms were watched with a panoramic view that would make an IMAX theater jealous.<p>

The Castles were ready for the show. Alexis had made popcorn, and Castle was finishing up his latest chapter for Nikki Heat. Martha was prowling through the house and shutting off the unneeded lights. A small collection of flashlights and candles were piled on the coffee table in case there was a power outage.

"Weather Channel says it's a big cell," Alexis said, helping Martha move the couch to face the window. "We might get some good lightning tonight. Dad, hurry up!" she called towards the study as the clouds opened up and dumped buckets of rain down upon the Big Apple. "We need to turn off the lights soon!"

Her father came out less than a minute later. "I'm done, I'm done," he assured her. "Are we all ready for Nature's big show?"

"Oh yeah. I so need this." Alexis flopped down on the couch and drew her legs up underneath her. "Nothing like seeing flashes of heated air and light to help you put your life in perspective." Obviously the scars from her recent break-up with Ashley were still raw, given the way her voice held a trace of anger.

Castle wisely decided not to comment on his daughter's words. Instead he called out, "Mother? Are you going to join us sometime soon?"

"You know, many families consider movie night an acceptable pastime," said the actress, bringing over a bottle of soda and three glasses.

"But stormwatching is epic!" Alexis said.

Castle hugged his daughter with a laugh. "I knew I raised you right." A low rumble drew three gazes to the steadily darkening sky. "It's starting," he said. "Everyone ready?"

"It was a dark and stormy night..." Alexis said with a wicked little smile.

His reaction was instantaneous. "Hey! Bad form. No clichéd opening lines during the stormwatching."

"You have the weirdest pet peeve, Dad," she replied. "Literary clichés? Really?"

"I am a writer. A bestselling author," Castle said, not without a bit of pride. "I didn't sell twenty-odd books by using such tired openers like "It was a dark and stormy night," or "In the darkness, there came a knock on the door,"..."

Then there actually was a knock at the front door. Three sets of eyes widened, meeting each other with the same silent question. _Who could that be?_

"I'll get it," Castle finally said. Getting off the couch, he padded over to the front door. "We didn't order pizza, did we - Beckett?"

"Hey Castle."

"What are you doing here?" She was absolutely drenched. Her jacket and jeans were plastered to her body like cellophane wrap, and on any other day Castle would've only stopped oogling when snapped at. But he barely even acknowledged her revealing attire.

He was more concerned with the puffy, red eyes that apparently lent their own downpour to her wet cheeks. "Come inside," he said getly, taking her by the elbow and bringing her inside the loft. "Alexis, grab some towels. Mother, did you do any laundry?"

* * *

><p>Despite her protests, Beckett was soon toweled dry and dressed in a pair of Alexis's pajama pants and one of Castle's t-shirts. She joined the Castle family on their couch, bringing her bare feet up to nestle under Castle's thigh for warmth. Normally she would've felt awkward, but Beckett needed the physical contact. Castle, in one of his moments of understanding, hadn't teased her about it.<p>

When Alexis finished her explaination, Beckett couldn't stop her frown. "Stormwatching?" she asked, puzzled by what had just been explained to her. "Really?"

"It's fun," Castle interjected. "Don't knock it til you've seen it." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Now relax, woman, and enjoy nature's show."

Some part of her screamed about this being awkward and inappropriate and crossed so many lines in their partnership. However, the rest of her was screaming at this little part to shut up and not ruin the moment.

Luckily, both parts shut up when the first lightning strike exploded in the sky, closely followed by the crack of thunder. Yelping in surprise, Beckett dove for cover - straight into Castle's arms.

His shock at her action melted in seconds once he felt her trembling against his chest. One hand moved to rub her back in soothing circles. "Shh, Kate, it's okay," he whispered. When she had her flashbacks, they sometimes made her overreact to loud sound like thunderclaps. Now he knew why she'd come over in a downpour; being alone wasn't an option for her anymore. "Come on, get up."

"No." Even terrified, she was still stubborn as a mule. "Don't let me spoil your tradition."

"Hush, woman. I won't have any fun if you're uncomfortable." Goading Beckett to her feet, Castle shot Alexis and Martha an apologetic look. "Ladies, carry on without us. Let's go, Kate."

They disappeared in the direction of the writer's room, and they never returned, even long after the storm passed. Martha chuckled and mentioned white knights reaping the benefits of saving damsels in distress, but practical Alexis knew her father wouldn't take advantage of a vulnerable Beckett. He loved her too much. So, taking a candle, she softly padded her way back towards her father's bedroom.

The door was only open a quarter way. Alexis peeked inside and saw Castle and Beckett lying on top of his bed, fully clothed (thank God, the teenager breathed silently) and fast asleep. Beckett's head was lying on his chest and one arm was slung across his abdomen, like she was hugging a giant teddy bear. Castle had one arm around her waist, that arm's hand in her hair, and the other arm was folded behind his head as a makeshift pillow.

Smiling softly, Alexis pulled the door all the way shut and walked back down the hall to go to bed.

* * *

><p><strong>Awwww! So fluffy and cute!<strong>

**Review please!**


	12. Initial

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle_ or 1x01 "Pilot".**

**Prompt #11: Initial - She knew the second he turned around that he was going to be trouble.**

**Words: 637**

* * *

><p>Richard Castle is my suspect. I'm torn between two very opposite reactions to this news.<p>

Part of me wants to jump up and down in fangirly joy. I'd finally be meeting the man who wrote the stories that got me through some of the toughest times in my life. I'd be meeting the man who wrote some of the best crime novels I'd ever read, even back when I wanted to be a cop. He was a beacon for me. A hero.

The other part of me not squealing in joy was screaming in denial. Richard Castle couldn't be involved with these murders. His books were bestsellers, which made them very well read and circulated. It had to be a coincidence. A copycat.

Either way, I'm going to the launch party of _Storm Fall _to talk to Richard Castle.

I think I might pass out in joy. Before we leave, of course. The last thing I need is Ryan and Esposito on my case about being a fangirl.

That's just not my style.

* * *

><p>Ugh, I'm so disillusioned right now.<p>

I haven't even walked in two minutes ago and I've got his personality down pat. He's a charming, arrogant, playboy man-child who's coasting on air and signing girls' "chests" like he's a damn rock star. He's signed five in the minute I've been staring at him in disbelief.

I might ralph. Seriously.

But I'm here to do a job. So, bucking it up, I take the necessary steps forward to where he was talking with another girl at the bar and say, "Mr. Castle?"

He spins around, and for a split second, he's the most handsome man I've ever seen. Then he pulls out the marker and says, "Where would you like it?"

My voice gains the disgusted note it needs as I flash my badge. "Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. We need to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight."

The redheaded girl - who I now recognize as his daughter, Alexis - reaches over and takes the pen. "That's new," she remarks, obviously answering a question he'd asked her.

Apparently he was bored.

Well, he's not anymore. I've found that being hauled in for questioning is a very sobering prospect.

* * *

><p>Who am I kidding? I <em>so <em>saw this coming!

He's a child in a man's body. That's all I can say. He's juvenile and selfish and manipulative and just a plain and utter _bastard_!

He tricked me. He stole the files.

And then he figured out who really killed Ashley Tisdale, and why. Smug bastard.

Part of me wants to just cuff him and beat him senseless for making me worry.

But the other part of me thinks, _Huh, he's actually useful. _But I'd never tell him that.

I don't think his ego should get any bigger than it already is.

* * *

><p>Richard Castle will be shadowing me. I'm torn between two very different reactions.<p>

One part of me wants to shoot him. Multiple times. In the face. His shadowing me around will only give me gray hair and wrinkles of annoyance.

But the other part of me that wasn't screaming with denial was squealing in joy. Rick Castle would be staying longer! I'd be his inspiration! How many people can say that?

Either way, Castle's going to be sticking around for quite a while now.

This ought to be interesting.

* * *

><p><strong>Flashback to Pilot, because I wondered what Beckett's reactions to all this were.<strong>

**Review please!**


	13. Fidget

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle, _but Miranda is mine.**

**Prompt #12: Fidget - Riding a desk made her an anal-retentive OCD mad woman.**

**Words: 627**

* * *

><p>Castle prided himself on being a man of action. Even sitting at a desk, he could actively solve mysteries with the aid of his trusty laptop and his fake murder board. But he wasn't without his moments of patience, level-headedness, and serenity. When he pondered something, he could remain still as a statue for hours staring at nothing as his thoughts went flying in different directions.<p>

Unfortunately, Beckett did not have his contained demeanor.

Confined to a desk duty due to a pair of cracked ribs, his feisty partner was jittery with nerves, caffiene, and copious amounts of boredom. Her fingers drummed like a drumline competition as she sat at her desk with nothing to do. All her backlog of paperwork was caught up, every current lead exhausted, and still Beckett could not calm down and relax.

She moved her little elephants into different lines, formations, and all around her desk. She sorted her pens by color and type. She shuffled and re-shuffled her paperwork until not a sheet was out of place. She fiddled with her blotter, her notepad, her paperweights, her coffee cup, and other tiny things that littered her desk, all with a very serious, very focused expression on her face. Castle was about ready to pin her hands down.

After two passes, Miranda took pity on him and managed to convince Gates that Castle was needed to check out another lead. The writer waited until they were safely outside the precinct before showering Miranda with thanks.

"But I'm actually a little surprised," she admitted as they drove towards the crime scene. "Beckett's always so collected, it's odd to see her fussing over little things like those elephants she has."

"Beckett's not the type to relish being a desk jockey," Castle replied, unconsciously slipping into slang he'd heard around the office. "On the streets is where she feels like she's doing the most good. If she's not there, at least she's working the case. She's just bored now, and it's driving her up the wall."

Miranda laughed a little. "What, can't you just annoy her and - "

"I try and catch her attention again, she's sworn to shoot me in the foot and kick me in the groin. Hard."

"Ouch. Grumpy. What did you do?"

"Why does everyone - "

"It saves time."

"...Fair enough." Castle pondered as they pulled up to the crime scene and ducked under the tape. "Nope, nothing comes to mind. I've been good, getting her coffee and - "

"And you're still alive?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been getting her coffee all day?"

"She kept saying she needed more!"

"Castle, some women need chocolate to be happy. Beckett, like most cops, needs caffiene to function like a decent human being." Miranda shook her head in disbelief. "Give a desk jockey lots of caffiene and no way to work it off, they turn twitchy as tweakers. How can you not know this after four years working with cops?"

He held up his hands in defense. "She's never ridden a desk this long!"

"Geez Castle, no wonder she's so wound up." Heaving a loud sigh, Miranda stepped in front of him and entered the scene first. "We'll talk later. Right now let's see if we can find out how this blaze started up."

He fell in step behind the arson detective. "Just to clarify, exactly how bad of a meltdown from Beckett will I be expecting?"

Miranda glanced back at him. "On a scale of one to Chernobyl?"

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>


	14. Crash

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #13: Crash - It's rare that she is so physically dependent on him, but Castle doesn't complain or crow about it.**

**Words: 699**

* * *

><p><em>When I find the bastard that did this to you<em>, Castle thought, _Ryan and Esposito can shoot out his kneecaps, Lanie will tie him down to her autopsy table, and I will gut him myself with the bone saw_.

He was thinking this as he surveyed the destruction in what used to be Beckett's living room. The closed curtains were shredded until they looked like rags. Glass shards and bits of paper littered the carpet, throwing light in strange patterns over the cieling and walls of her apartment. Most of her furniture was still upright, but more than one looked a little battered. Crouched in the corner, clutching her Glock in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other, was Beckett. She'd apparently nodded off during the night, but Castle was not about to walk over and try to wake her. Not while she was armed.

"Beckett?" he said softly.

She jerked awake like it was a gunshot that went off by her ear. Her Glock came up and leveled right at Castle's chest. "Freeze!" she screamed.

"Kate, it's me!" he shouted back. "It's Rick!"

The reaction was instantaneous. Beckett dropped her weapon and the bottle as her eyes went wide. "Oh my god, Castle," she whispered, horrified at what she'd almost done. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry - "

"Hey, hey," he said soothingly, quickly crossing the room and pulling her into his arms. "Shh, it's all right. You're okay, I'm okay, we're fine. Shh, Beckett, it's all right."

She broke down sobbing, her hands reaching up his back and clutching the fabric of his jacket at his shoulder blades. Castle held her up, crushing her against his chest and whispering calming words into her hair. He'd known she was spiraling ever since the sniper case, but to see her this broken after a simple surprise ambush - it was heartbreaking. The Detective Beckett he knew was nowhere to be found. In her place was Kate, scared and alone and hurt.

Something in his soul wanted the blood of the bastard who'd done this to his Kate. He wanted to hurt the sniper who'd shot his partner, leaving her with a scar on her chest and prescription-grade PTSD issues. He wanted to scoop her up into his arms and protect her from the hurts and horrors of this world.

Deciding to act on the least violent of his urges, Castle squatted and slipped an arm behind her knees to pick her up. His concern immediately increased when Kate didn't fight him, just pressed herself closer like a frightened child. She was in a worse state than he'd originally thought.

"All right Kate, it's okay," he kept saying as he maneuvered his way to her bedroom. Setting her down on the bed, he pulled off her heels and guided her out of her jacket, pulled the clips and pins out of her hair, and coaxed her to lie down. "Shh, sweetheart, it's all right now," he murmured, not even realizing that he'd said the endearment. His fatherly instincts were in full gear; she reminded him of a younger Alexis after the girl had a nightmare. "It's okay, I'm here. You want water?"

"Yeah," she whispered, already half-asleep again.

Getting up carefully, he strode back through the ruined living room and into the kitchen. Filling a glass of water took moments, and once he set it on her nightstand, Castle tucked her in. "Just sleep, Kate," he whispered to her. "I'm here. Nothing's going to hurt you."

Beckett didn't answer, so he knew she was officially asleep. Careful to keep quiet, Castle slipped out of her room and shut the door. He walked into the living room and surveyed the damage, cataloging what could be saved and what had to be replaced. Then he rolled up his sleeves and hunted for some cleaning supplies.

If he worked quickly and quietly enough, maybe he could have the place liveable before Beckett woke up for work.

* * *

><p><strong>Vulnerable!Kate is hard to describe, but I hope I did her justice.<strong>

**Review please!**


	15. Honorable

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #14: Honorable - He didn't tell her how he felt. He couldn't monopolize her happiness or bear her rejection.**

**Words: 1,030**

* * *

><p><em>She's awake. She's alive<em>.

That's all I can think of at the moment. That - and the fact that she knows.

She knows. I told her. About my feelings.

_Calm down Castle_. I pause, take a second to fix my hair, and compose myself. I gotta keep it together. _Keep it cool, Rick_.

The cops don't stop me when I walk in. I put a grin on my face and get ready with my opening line - which dies in my throat when I see the scene in front of me.

Josh is beside her, muttering something about her hospital bracelet looking good but not being diamonds. They look up when the door shuts behind me. Kate smiles - _God she looks exhausted _- and says, "Hey, Castle."

My words fail me. My hand stops in a half-wave and goes back to hold the vase of flowers I'd gotten for her. Flowers that would be lost in the sea of flora surrounding her bed. _Way to be original, Castle, _I berate myself.

Josh says he'll be back after rounds, kisses her forehead goodbye, and passes by me without a word. There's still tension after our earlier fight; I can feel it leave the room with him.

"Hey." _Way to be smooth, genius. Bestselling author, and you open with 'Hey?' Fantastic_.

"You're staring at me. I must look really bad." Her hand comes up to push back the bangs in her face, but she stops the motion to shield her face.

"Nah, I just never thought I'd see you again." I keep staring at she glances up at me again. "I - heard you were opening a flower store," I continue, hoisting up my vase, "so I thought I'd pitch in." I put it on the only open space left as I sit in the chair Josh just vacated.

"They were all here when I woke up. I think they're mostly from the precinct. I don't think I'm going to live this one down, Castle," she confides.

The need to crack a joke arises, and I take it in stride. "No, probably not."

Yes! A smile. It still works. It makes her look less pale and tired. More like herself.

"I hear that you tried to save me."

"Yeah, I uh - " Wait, what? Did she say - "You heard?" I repeat. "You don't remember me tackling you?"

"No, I don't remember much of anything."

She doesn't remember? She doesn't remember me tackling her - _too late, _my treacherous belittling voice snipes - or my frantic pleas for her to stay with me?

"I um, remember that I was on the podium, and then I remember everything just going black."

I look down briefly, too stunned to let her see my confusion. She doesn't remember - anything?

"You don't remember - " I want to say _my confession _but something stops me. My conscience. It tells me to stop, to rethink my words, and say something else entirely. I swallow. " - the gunshot?" I go with instead.

She gives the tiniest shake of her head. "No."

Which means she doesn't remember anything after that. Not my failed heroic attempt to save her. Not my tears. Not my confession. Nothing.

And I thought my heart couldn't break into tinier pieces than it had when she coded in the ambulance.

Kate keeps speaking like she doesn't see how much her words hurt. "They say there are some things better not being remembered."

"Yeah." I know it's true. The shot would haunt her if she remembered. My words would drive a wedge between us if she remembered them.

I couldn't tell her. Not if it would knock her off her axis again.

She moves on to another topic. "I keep seeing his face Castle, every time I close my eyes I see Montgomery lying on the hanger floor." I glance down, recalling that exact image that was forever burned into my mind. "You should've let me go in there."

"They would have killed you." I know that with every fiber of my being.

"You don't know that."

_Stubborn girl_. "Kate..."

"Castle," she cuts me off. "I'm really tired, right now."

International code for Get the Frack Out. "Of course," I say, getting up. "Of course. We'll talk tomorrow."

I'm almost to the door when I hear her say, "Do you mind if we don't?" I look back, confused. She doesn't look at me. "I just need a little bit of time."

Time to think. Time to re-evaluate. Time to recover. "Sure," I say, giving a small smile. "Sure. How much time?"

"I'll call you, okay?"

She looks up at me, looking so hurt and lost and alone. I have to give a small smile to cheer her up. "Sure."

As I leave, I realize that I can never tell her. She doesn't remember, and I can see that it's better that way. If she did, it could hurt her far more than that bullet did. She has her mother's case. She has her job. She has Josh.

I can't take that from her. I can't take her hatred if she blamed me.

So I'll be the honorable man, the plucky best friend instead of the greedy lover or, god forbid, rejected suitor. I'll just watch out for her, protecting her as best I can without showing just how much I love her.

I wait until I'm back in my study before the tears are able to prickle past my defenses.

Being an honorable guy is more painful than I could have ever believed possible.

* * *

><p><strong>Introspect for "Rise" again, because I know Castle had to be torn all through that hospital scene.<strong>


	16. Apples

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #15: Apples - That word got a lot of use with them.**

**Words: 505**

* * *

><p>It's a strange word, but it's innocuous enough.<p>

It's also gotten more use more in the last four years than he'd ever thought it would.

Who would have known that a sassy NYPD detective had what it took to make him beg for mercy not once, not twice, but at least ten times times in four years (he was guesstimating on that number).

Really amazing.

* * *

><p>She couldn't believe that four years ago, "apples" had simply meant red fruit. Now it held the power to make her stop tormenting a certain writer.<p>

The Pavlovian response had been completely unconscious on her part. Hearing him shriek the word when she inflicted pain made her stop. Soon it was a conditioned response, and she never had to think about it anymore.

Who could have guessed that a bestselling crime novelist had what it took to train her to respond to a safeword in such a short amount of time?

Truly impressive.

* * *

><p>"Ah, Beckett! Apples!"<p>

Miranda cocked her head to the side, hearing a very odd response to seeing Beckett grab Castle's ear like a schoolteacher with a naughty child. "Apples?" repeated the younger woman, glancing at the other two detectives.

Esposito chuckled. "That's his safeword," he responded.

"And you know this how?"

"Because he's said it once or twice," Ryan mentioned, nose buried in a file. "Besides, it's the only way he gets Beckett to let go of his ear."

Miranda watched with fresh interest as Beckett released Castle's ear after another few cries of "Apples! Apples!" Leaning back in her chair, she shot a glance at Beckett that spoke volumes in the silence. _Care to elaborate?_

"Detective Reynolds," said Beckett, "care to have a cup on me?"

"Sure, Beckett," Miranda replied, rising to follow the brunette into the break room.

After making two cups, Beckett rounded on Miranda and said softly, "Look, I don't get it either, okay? It just happens now. It's better not to question it."

Miranda held up her hands with a smile. "Hey, no judgment here. Just found it amusing."

"Yeah, well, it's...it's complicated."

"A lot seems to be with you two." Watching Beckett grab for a pen, Miranda had a crazy but funny idea. As Beckett's fingers clenched on the cylindrical writing instrument, the arson detective quickly said, "Apples!"

The pen was instantly released and dropped to the floor with a clatter. Miranda fought not to laugh as a look of pure shock blanketed Beckett's face. "Interesting," said Miranda in a slightly strangled voice. "Guess it's not just restricted to Castle, then. Good to know."

"Tell anyone," Beckett choked out, looking simultaneously horrified and steaming mad, "and I'll make sure your death looks like an accident gone horribly wrong."

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>


	17. Towel

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #16: Towel - His throat constricted as his eyes bugged out in shock. "Beckett? What the...?"**

**Words: 969**

* * *

><p><em>Going back to LA wasn't really that bad<em>, Beckett thought, _when your partner could foot the bill_.

Once again, they were in a fabulous five-star hotel that had a spa package that was to die for. Beckett had immediately decided to sample said package, and felt herself relax in ways she'd forgotten in so many years. After an hour-long massage, facial, manicure, and pedicure, Beckett felt like a puddle of very satisfied goo. All she wanted to do was take a long nap and sleep until dinner.

Castle had spared no expense making sure they were comfortable during their stay in Tinseltown. Since there was no case to preoccupy them, he'd insisted that Beckett go with him as he surveyed the production of the second Nikki Heat movie. She'd been due for a vacation, and never one to turn down a free trip, Beckett decided to go along.

But first - a bath was in order. She'd been walking through Hollywood with Castle all day, and while the spa had been lovely, she still wanted a good soak to get rid of all traces of dirt and sweat. Filling the tub with warm water and her favorite bubble bath, Beckett slipped in and sighed with relief.

With the year she'd had, no wonder relaxing felt _so...relaxing. _What with hunting down killers almost every single day, Beckett sometimes forgot that she had needs of her own to fulfill that weren't case-centric. Sinking lower in the backtub until her shoulders were almost under the water, the homicide detective sighed again and slid her eyes shut.

The water was so warm...Castle sure knew how to holiday...she was staying in the same hotel room with Castle again...for some reason, it didn't bother her as much as before...

Maybe because it really didn't matter now. Castle loved her - she'd heard it now - and despite all his jokes and innuendo, he wouldn't risk their friendship by seducing her. He still believed she didn't remember the shooting and his confession. Honor and respect kept him from saying anything about it, and sometimes it broke Beckett's heart to continue the charade.

"Beckett? You in here? I'm back!"

...And sometimes he was just too easy to mess with.

* * *

><p>"Beckett, I - " His voice choked out when his eyes bulged like a stress toy's. "Beckett?"<p>

"What is it, Castle?" she asked, standing in the doorway of the bathroom with nothing but a white cotten towel between his eyes and her body. She had to fight to keep the smile from her face; all he saw was the look of thoroughly exasperated Beckett.

"Why - What are - Why are you - Huh?"

"My clothes are in my room, Castle, and I just got out of the tub. How was the studio?" she asked, taking three steps towards him.

Castle retreated hastily, still bug-eyed and gaping like a suffocating fish. "Fine - Okay - Just - Just put some clothes on!" he managed to choke out.

Beckett tilted her head to the side, playing the confused card. "What, does this make you uncomfortable?" she asked, a slow, sly grin coming to her face as she stepped even closer. He tried to retreat, but his legs bumped into the couch and folded to drop him onto it. He was effectively trapped. "I'd think that the famous playboy Richard Castle isn't flustered by seeing a half-naked woman walking up to him."

"Beckett - "

"I'm surprised," she continued. He tried to squirm backwards, but Beckett managed to corner him so he only had one place to go - towards her. "You're normally drooling at the chance to see some cleavage."

"Beckett, don't - "

"Whatsa matter, Castle?" Beckett asked coyly, leaning over slightly. "Getting a little hot under the collar?"

"Beckett, stop!"

The unexpected order wiped the smile from Beckett's face. Castle's eyes were closed, his face creased in a frown that showed just how hard he was trying not to give into his urges. A bead of sweat slid down his temple. His lips were white and pressed into a thin line.

_I pushed too far, _Beckett realized, backing up a few steps. She'd gone too far with her teasing and underestimated his ability to joke about stuff like that objectively.

She'd underestimated how badly he wanted her...and how close she'd come to pushing him to taking what he wanted.

"Sorry," said Beckett, heading for her bedroom. "I was just fooling around, Castle. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable." Her hand reached for the doorknob and whatever last shred of dignity had been left intact. "I'll just get dressed and - "

She never heard him move. One second her hand was on the doorknob. The next second, his hand was around her wrist, his arm around her waist, and his lips pressing against hers like that long-ago undercover kiss in the alleyway. Except now there was no guard to fool, and no way this could be written off as a ploy. Just Castle, and Beckett, in a hotel room, with her in a towel and him kissing her senseless.

"Castle," she gasped when his mouth moved to kiss her neck. "R - _Rick_..."

"Shh," he whispered, pulling her flush with his body. "Just shut up, woman." There was a boyish twinkle in his blue eyes when he looked at her and smirked. "You asked for it, _Kate_."

* * *

><p><strong>This was <em>not <em>supposed to turn steamy. This was supposed to be teasing, and flirty, and tempting, and...and...aw hell, it was already heading that way, so why not?**

**Review please!**


	18. Natalie

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle _or episode 3x11 "Nikki Heat."**

**Prompt #17: Natalie - Being completely copied from hair to habits was creepy. Being asked by said copy to sleep with Castle was beyond wrong.**

**Words: 824**

* * *

><p>Natalie Rhodes. Never thought I could hate someone so much.<p>

She's beginning to damage my calm. First she copies my posture, then my look, now my behavior? I'm freaking out here! And the worst part it that Castle isn't weirded out by it!

And then yesterday...I see her pressed against him, sucking face with Richard Castle, _my _Richard Castle, and there are only two things running through my mind.

First is the urge to run over there, tear her off him, and throw down.

Second is the thought, _Why isn't that me?_

I'm seriously considering how to cause her homicide right now. I could get away with it, and Lanie would help me. Ryan would be on board because he's still mad that he got tanked in front of Jenny. Espo and Castle can go screw themselves; the three of us can easily take on my she-demon clone.

_Speak of the devil_...

"Can I ask you something?" she asks as she leans on my desk.

"Sure." I take a big slurp of coffee as Natalie drops into Castle's seat beside my desk. I'm not big on giving my evil doppelganger the time of day right now. She's already taken my coffee and my paperwork with nobody batting an eye. If I'm not careful, she might just do what I confided to Castle she'd do - take my boyfriend, kill me in my sleep, and steal my soul. Not necessarily in that order.

God, I've been around Castle too long. That sounds like a plausible scenario.

Natalie sounds half-certain, half-curious. "Is Castle gay?"

_Lady said what now? _I spit out my mouthful of hot coffee as I try not to choke on it. Wiping my mouth gave me the extra second to stammer out, "I'm sorry, what? No. No."

"Then you two are an item but you're sworn to secrecy, right?" she continues, a me but with Natalie Rhodes's voice. It's like my reflection, but usually when I ask myself questions my reflection doesn't talk back. Especially not when I'm asking myself hard-hitting questions like _Why aren't we together?_

"No, we are not an item." Curiosity about her curiosity makes me ask, "Why?"

She gives an annoyed exhale through her nose and leans closer. "Last night, I invited him back to my place. And he said something to me that I have never heard from a man before."

I wait, but she doesn't tell. So I bite. "What?"

Her voice drops lower as she says slowly, "No."

"No?" I repeat, my eyebrows raising in shock. _Castle didn't sleep with you? Me? Nikki? Wha?...My head hurts..._

Natalie clearly shares my confusion. "I don't get it. He's into you, but you're determined not to give into these feelings that you clearly have for him. So he fantasizes about you through his writing. It's literally - " here her voice drops to a hiss " - verbal masturbation!"

_TMI! TMI! _"I-e-wha okay, so what does this all have to do with me?" I ask, now thoroughly confused as to why she was asking me this.

"I am not wearing this getup for my health," she states, plucking at the leather jacket she's wearing. "You're Nikki Heat, he's Jameson Rook. I need to sleep with him in the name of character research. Can you talk to him?"

"And say what?" I have no idea where this conversation can go next.

"I dunno, give him permission or something."

Obviously I've underestimated this woman's dedication to the role of Nikki Heat, because she's dead serious. I can see it in her eyes.

But what do I do? I can't say no, or else she'll assume we're together. And Castle and I are definitely _not _together. (I ignore the little voice that screams _WHY NOT, YOU IDIOT? _and sounds remarkably like Lanie.)

But selfishness forbids me from saying yes. It's a ridiculous demand. She can't expect me to do anything of the sort. I can't control Castle. Never have, never will.

Castle is my friend. My partner. Natalie is dressed up as me to play Nikki Heat, and no matter how freaking weird the scenario would be, it's not like I can switch places with her.

Nikki is Nikki, and I am me. And I want Castle as me, Kate Beckett.

_Oh god, did I just think that?_

My mouth drops open to say, "I need to go. Over there."

I grab my coffee and make a break for it.

* * *

><p><strong>Thought-shot of Beckett during that exchange. Anyone else think it was hilarious?<strong>

**Review please!**


	19. Reconsider

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #18: Reconsider - Believing in magic was pointless...wasn't it?**

**Words: 804**

* * *

><p>"Please Beckett!" whined Castle, setting up his small tabletop. "Just watch for a little bit, okay?"<p>

"I'm not putting my hand in the hat," she warned him. "You're not sawing off my hand. If I am squirted by any sort of liquid via any type of object, so help me God, I will not hesitate to shoot you."

He pouted like a little boy. "Well, if that's the case, I'll keep it simple and boring." A deck of cards appeared in his hands, fanning out with a twist of his wrist. "Pick a card, any card."

"Really?" Beckett asked with a grin. "Aren't card tricks a little beneath you?"

"Well you've nixed all the fun stuff, so this is my fallback."

Beckett sighed and shook her head. "Castle, I have paperwork to do."

"Just shut up and draw a card, woman."

Rolling her eyes, she did as ordered. She looked at the ace of spades, then back at Castle. "Okay, now what?"

"Remember it. And put it back in the deck." She did so, and Castle started to do some complicated shuffling tricks. She watched his hands carefully, trying to figure out what he was doing.

After about two minutes of shuffling, he spread the cards out in a line across her desk. "Okay, now pick another card. Any card."

Smelling a trick, Beckett tentatively drew a card from the left side of center. Seeing it was the Queen of Hearts, she glanced up at him. "Castle, what kind of trick is this?"

"Just a simple card trick," Castle smiled. "Okey-dokey, now there's two cards. Can you remember what they are?" Beckett nodded. "Good. Put that card back, and wait to be amazed."

Beckett watched him shuffle for a few more minutes. "Why is this so important to you?" she asked.

"Why is what so important to me?" Castle responded, his eyes never leaving the cards.

"Me believing in magic."

"I feel like we had this conversation before," he said.

"We did," she admitted. "Now we're having it again."

He actually seemed to take the time to think about her question. When he answered, he spoke slowly and deliberately. "Well, I still stand by what I said earlier. How can you ever hope to find magic when you don't believe in it? Everyone needs magic, Beckett."

"Because, if you don't believe in even the possibility of magic, you'll never ever find it," she recited from memory. "Yes Castle, I remember."

Clear blue eyes looked at her searchingly. "So why don't you want to believe?" Magic trick forgotten, he leaned forward and put his hand over hers. "Why not believe in magic, Kate?"

The warmth of his fingers was a distraction that she couldn't afford to have. "Because it's a waste of time," she responded tightly, pulling her hand back. "The world isn't chock-full of magic, Rick. Magic doesn't exist. The world is cold, and harsh, and no amount of magic or fairies or wishing on stars will make it better." Realizing that she was dangerously close to letting loose on him, Beckett turned away and returned to her paperwork. "Now leave me alone, Castle."

For a few seconds, the only sound between them was the ticking of the clock and the rustle of paperwork. Beckett kept her eyes firmly glued on the forms beneath her pen. Her anger simmered like a covered pot of water.

A card slipped across her paper, and another soon joined it. Ace of spaces. Queen of Hearts. Beckett looked at them, mildly surprised. "What're those?" she asked gruffly to hide it.

"Your cards. Don't bother denying it." He didn't sound different, just his usual playful self. "You drew the steadfast ace first, then the fickle queen."

"And how could you possibly know that?" Beckett asked dryly.

"That, my dear Beckett, is a secret," he said with a smile. "You know what sticklers magicians are regarding that type of thing." Holding out his open, empty palm, Castle made a fist. When he turned his hand over and opened his fingers, a small object dropped onto Beckett's desk with a little thud. "You should keep better track of your valuables, Detective."

"Stop stealing my stress toys, Castle."

"Ah-ha, you smiled," he said, grinning at her. "Mission accomplished."

"Shut up," she grumbled, unable to completely hide her grin.

She didn't used to believe in magic. But then she met Castle, who had his own brand of magic that always made her smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Yay, Castle magic!<strong>

**Review please!**


	20. Poker

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #19: Poker - With pride and gummy bears on the line, they squared off to settle the stalemate.**

**Words: 608**

* * *

><p>He'd thrown one for her.<p>

She'd thrown one for him.

Now they'd decided to figure out who really was the best. Pride demanded it.

Well, at least that's how it was supposed to happen. Castle wasn't really sure how they'd managed to find themselves in this position, but here they were.

A somewhat serious game of poker with gummy bears had rapidly devolved with the addition of a bottle of liquor found in Esposito's bottom desk drawer. Surprisingly, Beckett had let herself get more than a little sloshed. Giggling like a little girl, she held her cards close and kept shooting gleeful looks at Castle, humming a song that sounded very much like, "I know something you don't know."

That was not the Beckett he'd come to know. She was brusque, direct, and took none of his crap. If he had to be truthful, she was the mother he never had. But that was just wrong, because Detective Kate Beckett was most definitely not his mother.

He'd only known Beckett for a little while, and he had the notion that she might have more-than-platonic feelings for him, however fleeting. He was, after all, a ruggedly handsome bestselling author. Women fawned over him like subjects for a beloved king.

But Beckett was very different from them. She didn't fawn, or adore, or even smile like a crushing schoolgirl at him. She treated him - like a person. A normal person. That was more than anyone had done in a long time, and it threw him somewhat.

"Beat that, Castle!" she crowed now, laying down her full house, Jacks over nines. "I win!"

He grinned back at her. "Oh, hold on there. I believe I can beat that." He revealed his own hand. "Full house as well. Kings over tens."

"Awwwww!" she whined, drawing out the word with a tipsy slur. "Well, I guess that settles it. You win the whole pot." She reached over and grabbed a gummy bear, popping it in her mouth. "But I'm still better than you. You only won 'cause I had a sucky hand."

Castle shook his head. "You must be really gone if you're calling a full house a sucky hand." Getting his coat, he took the half-depleted bottle of booze and returned it to Esposito's drawer. "Come on, Detective. Let me give you a ride home."

"You tryin' something with me, Castle?"

Another head shake. "Nope. I'm not quite that juvenile. Your virtue's safe, Detective." Offering his hand, he pulled Beckett up from her seat and helped her into her coat. "Shall we go? What's your address?"

She shook her head deliberately. "Not gonna tell." There was a spark of knowledge in her booze-buzzed eyes, like she still had enough of her wits to keep her home secret from him.

"Then how am I supposed to get you home?" Castle asked logically.

"Cab," was her quick reply.

He smiled. "Very well then. Let's get you out there."

That late in New York City, getting a cab was somewhat a challenge. But soon Castle was loading Beckett into the back and making sure she was awake enough to give her address. Once he shut the door and watched the cab take off, Castle headed back to his loft.

_Detective Kate Beckett_, he thought as he walked. _You are an interesting woman. I can't wait to learn more about you_.

* * *

><p><strong>A little tag from 1x08 "Ghosts" that I just whipped up.<strong>

**Review please!**


	21. Plotlines

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #20: Plotlines - You had to admit, sometimes the writer really did come in handy. His mind could process more scenarios than most cops ever considered.**

**Words: 720**

* * *

><p>Miranda Reynolds sat in a spare seat and watched as Detective Beckett and Richard Castle began hashing out theories on their victim's involvement in the case. She sipped her espresso and settled down for a long session of people-watching. Or in this case, partner-watching.<p>

They were something else to watch.

Beckett was no-nonsense, by the book and logical as a mathematician. She looked at the evidence and tried to find the patterns in the victims' and suspects' lives. Alibis, records, and leads are what make her tick, and when she catches a fresh trail, she follows like a hound after the fox.

Castle was imaginative, given to flights of fancy and out-of-the-box thinking. He looked at evidence and saw patterns that most people wouldn't think were probative. Conjecture, plotlines, and conspiracy theories are what fuel his mind, and when one of his wild stories comes true, he crows like a rooster at daybreak.

Personally, Miranda found the writer's ability to brainstorm effectively very enjoyable. He was willing to think outside the box, something she knew hardened detectives had trouble doing when a case defied the normal boundries. He was also a fresh pair of eyes, having an outsider's perspective while not being a complete civilian about it.

Not to mention he could concoct the most outrageous scenarios known to man and literature while somehow making them seem plausible and relevent to the case.

Almost snorting into her espresso, Miranda amused herself by recalling some of the more flavorful of Castle's motives for murder. CIA conspiracy was always a popular one, as were mob hits and the victim living a double life. Sometimes alien abduction was on the table, or there was some foray into the supernatural. Once he believed that the crocs who lived in New York City's sewers chewed a victim's torso into the mangled mess they found.

But this one, hands down, was her most favorite.

"Reynolds!" Beckett called out, breaking the arson specialist's train of thought. The homicide detective had her arms crossed and looked somewhat annoyed. "Can you please come over here and help? Castle's off in la-la land again."

The writer scoffed at his partner. "You just don't appreciate my genius, Beckett."

"I want something that dwells in the realm of truth, Castle, not something that could be found in the science fiction section of Barnes and Noble."

Miranda tried not to burst out laughing at the pout on Castle's face. Looking over the timeline on the murder board, she said, "Actually, I like the whole ninja-assassin idea."

Castle snapped his fingers and pointed to her. "Yes! Finally! A convert!"

"You can't be serious," Beckett scoffed in disbelief.

"Hey, ninjas are shifty little bastards," Castle replied.

"When the mood for murder hits them," Miranda added with a shrug.

With huge smiles they exchanged a trio of high-fives. Esposito cracked up laughing in his seat. "Looks like another Castle Jr. has been born," he gasped out to Ryan, slugging his partner's shoulder playfully.

Castle turned to Miranda and said solemnly, "Do you accept the title of Castle Minor, Miss Reynolds, understanding the implications and responsibilities of such a title?"

Just as soberly, Miranda nodded. "I do understand, accept, and thank you for this gracious honor, Castle Prime." She bowed her head as Castle tapped each of her shoulders with a pen.

Backett facepalmed. "Next thing you know, I'll be branded the Lady Knight of the Realm."

The writer's eyes glittered with hope. "We can knight you."

"I'll pass, thanks."

With a small smile, Miranda leaned back on Esposito's desk and watched Beckett and Castle gradually return to the case at hand. The distraction was amusing, not to mention it made their juices really work once play ended and work began again. "Never boring around here, is it?" she asked.

"Not really," Esposito agreed. "Even when he crosses the line, he's a useful shadow."

She wasn't sure if it was pessimism or foreshadowing that made her mutter, "Wonder what'll happen when he realizes that it's not enough."

* * *

><p><strong>It went from fun to serious to fun again, then sad note? What is that about?<strong>

**Review please!**


	22. Mystery

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #21: Mystery - He knew he'd never completely solve her. But that's what intrigued him.**

**Words: 298**

* * *

><p>Four years together, and there are still things I don't know about Kate Beckett.<p>

I know she smells like cherries. It's an odd thing, this badass woman smelling like such a delicious fruit. I catch whiffs of it when I can.

I know how she takes her coffee. I've known since the second case we've had together. Every day, I bring her a fresh coffee to keep her going. She is a regular little beast without her caffiene fix.

I know about her motorcycle. Damn, imagining her in tight black leather is a mental picture that will never leave my mind - until, at least, I see the real thing. I'm not holding my breath, though.

I know she wanted to be a lawyer once. She would've been a good one, I'm sure. But she made a damn good cop.

I know about her mother's death. We've already brushed death a few too many times while trying to solve it. I know all there is to know, hiding all my knowledge away on the murder board in my study, the existance of which she's never allowed to know.

But for everything I know, there's so much I don't.

I don't know what she's thinking when she looks at me with that unreasonable expression of hers. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive her for lying to me. I don't know how she feels about me.

There's still so much I want to know. That I know I'll probably never learn. But I've accepted this. I can't be greedy.

I'm just going to have to resign myself to the fact that she'll never share those secrets.

* * *

><p><strong>Anyone else heartbroken with the end of 47 Seconds? I know I was!<strong>

**Review please!**


	23. Motivation

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle_.**

**Prompt #22: Motivation - She knew exactly how to light a fire under his lazy butt.**

**Words: 433**

* * *

><p>The 12th was quiet that night. Everyone had gone home save for two people. One had her dark head bent over a pen and papers, while the other sat in his customary chair and fooled around on his phone.<p>

"I'm boooooooored."

Beckett rolled her eyes at the pouting sigh next to her desk. "You're being childish."

"But I'm boooooooored," was his reply. "When are you gonna be done?"

She pointed to her pile of forms. "When this is done."

"Is there any way to make it go away faster?"

"Yeah." When he looked up hopefully, Beckett added, "Help me do paperwork."

He gave her an affronted look of shock. "That just sounds even more boring!"

_I don't have time for this crap_, she thought wearily. After a long double homicide, all Beckett wanted was to run a hot bubble bath, sip some good red wine, and curl up in bed for a good solid block of sleep. A wish that would go unfulfilled tonight unless she managed to get an extra set of hands to help her power through the tower of paper on her desk. And with Castle pestering her, it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Drumming her pen against the tabletop, she cast her mind around to think of a way to trick Castle to leave her in peace. It couldn't be too hard. After all, he was a child in essence. In the style of Mary Poppins, she just had to make a game of it.

"Here's a thought," she said. "How about you go looking for my copy of Heat Rises? I left it somewhere in the precinct and I can't remember where."

His scandalized look nearly made her laugh. "You lost it? Here? Beckett, that thing is worth its weight in gold! How can you lose it?"

"Are you going to help me find it or not?"

Castle had to consider it for a second before nodding. "Alright then. Where did you last leave it?"

Making a big deal of thinking about it, Beckett rattled off a set of locations all over the precinct, from the coroner's office to the front lobby and everywhere in between. Armed with that list, Castle went off in search of the ficticiously lost book with single-minded determination.

Beckett grinned to herself as she returned to her paperwork. _Such an easy mark, even to this day_.

* * *

><p><strong>As if Beckett would lose her copy of any of Castle's books. Lol.<strong>

**Review please!**


	24. Fight

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #23: Fight - The day after that, he stopped showing up.**

**Words: 1,162**

* * *

><p>The sight of Castle's empty chair beside Beckett's desk was somewhat of a surprise. Javier Esposito lifted an eyebrow at the sight, but continued to his own desk to set down his cargo of coffee and donuts. His eyes drifted to the break room to make sure, but there was no sign of the writer. "Mom and Dad still haven't made up yet?" he asked, handing over a donut to his partner.<p>

Kevin Ryan shook his head. "Nope. Castle never showed up."

"Ouch. That makes four days gone." Esposito tilted his head towards Beckett's desk. "How's she taking it?"

"Took one look and hasn't stopped doing paperwork since she came in."

Together they shot a look at Beckett. She looked immersed in her work, her pen scratching away at a mile a minute. Her free hand reached for her cup of coffee and grasped only air. No Castle meant no fresh cup of coffee. A thought that passed through her eyes as plain as day when she looked at the bare spot on her desk and the four-day-empty seat beside her.

Esposito and Ryan shared a worried look. "She's not taking it well," Ryan pointed out.

"That a fact?" came his partner's sarcastic reply. "I'm wondering what Castle's up to now."

Further conversation was halted when Miranda showed up, reading a file so fast her eyes blurred. "Mom and Dad still not talking?" she asked as she leaned against Ryan's desk, not raising her eyes.

"Yup. Still stubborn about who was in the wrong," Esposito said.

Ever the equalist, the arson detective sighed and said, "Weren't they both wrong this time?"

"Yeah, but neither's going to admit it," Ryan stated. "And Gates isn't about to deal with their crap, so unless they settle it soon, she might just boot Castle out for good."

Shutting her folder, Miranda looked at the partners expectantly. "I'm assuming that we're going to shamelessly interfere with their private affair with the help of Lanie and Alexis and Mrs. Rodgers, right?"

Esposito breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Good, you said it first and not me. If this goes south, we can blame it on you."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm still the new kid, so I was kinda assuming I'd be the fall girl. Now, are you guys in or not?"

* * *

><p>Martha glanced into the study and saw her son still sitting at his desk, just as she left him an hour and a half ago. Pasting a smile on her face, she sashayed into the room with her tea. "Darling, please don't tell me that you're still engaging in a staring contest with your computer."<p>

Castle looked at her with a dull glare. "I just lost," he deadpanned. "What is it, Mother?"

"How long are you going to sulk? You know Beckett was just doing her job."

He scowled. "Lemme guess, Lanie called."

"No. It was that charming young detective - what was her name again? - oh yes, Miranda. She wanted to know where you went," Martha said. "Apparently they need your plot-spinning prowess at the precinct."

"No they don't," Castle replied, his gaze returning to his screen. His fingers began tapping keys. "I'm working, and besides, they don't _need me there play-acting a hero_." He said the last six words in a high-pitched, mocking tone.

The actress crossed her arms. "Now Richard, you are too old to be holding such a childish grudge. Get over it already. Besides, I have it on good authority that you were just as much to blame as Beckett was."

His lips pressed into a thin grimace. "Miranda?"

"She is a very intelligent woman."

Castle sighed heavily, shutting the lid of his laptop with resigned purpose. Martha tried to hide her smug grin. "Now off with you, Richard," she ordered, shooing him towards the door. "Go make up with her."

* * *

><p>It was obvious to Alexis when she plopped in the chair beside Detective Beckett's desk that when the brunette woman looked up, she was expecting an entirely different Castle to be sitting there. "Still angry at my dad?" she asked bluntly.<p>

Beckett sighed and returned to her paperwork. "Yes."

"Even though some people are saying it was your fault too?"

"You've been down with Lanie too much."

"Actually, Detective Reynolds was filling us in on why my dad suddenly checked out." Alexis rested her elbow on the desk, setting her chin on her palm. "I knew he was lying when he said Gina wanted him to get to Black Pawn Publishing ASAP. Dad doesn't like going in there if he can avoid it."

The detective's pen scratched angrily across the signature line. "Good. He's actually doing his own work, instead of adding to mine."

Alexis kept her blue eyes on Beckett, that wise youthful gaze searching for the right words. When she did speak, her tone was careful. "I think you know just how close you both got hurt last week, and it was just as much your fault as his. That's why you haven't called him."

Paperwork was abandoned in favor of computer work. Beckett's keyboard suffered a violent onslaught of typing as she tried not to look over at Alexis. Or, more specifically, at those blue Castle eyes.

The elevator door dinged open, and Beckett had to literally force herself to keep typing and not turn around. After the last four days of getting borderline whiplash, the last thing she needed was more disappointment.

Miranda spoke up, sounding very surprised. "Hey Castle! Been a while since you've slunk in here."

"Hey Miranda," was his cheery response.

Alexis hopped up. "Now's your chance," she said to the detective. "See you around. Hey Dad!" This last bit was directed at Castle as he approached Beckett's desk, two coffees in hand. "Gotta go. See you later!"

Joining the group of Esposito, Ryan, Lanie, and Miranda just beyond the bullpen, Alexis watched as her father hesitantly walked up to Beckett and handed her a cup. The detective had a frown on her face, but the relief in her eyes matched Castle's. "Good job, Miranda," the redheaded girl said.

"I did nothing but call you and Martha," was the bland reply. "They're miserable without each other, and to be honest, they're more amusing when they're together." That being said, Miranda left the situation the same way she entered - with her nose in the case file.

Lanie grinned. "She had too much fun fixing those two."

* * *

><p><strong>Review, please!<strong>


	25. Intervention

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle _or that fabulous finale, "Always."**

**Prompt #24: Intervention - Lanie all but dragged her down to autopsy and shouted, "Girl, stop second-guessing yourself and go kiss that man senseless!"**

**Words: 497**

* * *

><p>Kate Beckett had been in many different types of situations. Dangerous, more than most women her age. Strange, very much so. Uncomfortable, more recently than some.<p>

But nothing quite so awkward as being hauled down to the morgue and threatened at scalpel-point by her best girl friend.

"I am sick and tired of you two dancing around like trained bears!" Lanie announced, gesturing at Kate with the tiny surgical blade. "It's ridiculous! It's inane! You're adults, for Chrissake!"

Watching the blade carefully, Kate tried to speak up. "Lanie - "

"This song-and-dance you two have been doing has gone on long enough!" Obviously the medical examiner was not going to let her get a word in edgewise. "I mean, c'mon! The man has moved Heaven and Earth for you, repeatedly! If that's not hinting at deeper feelings - "

"Lanie, wait a - "

" - then you gotta serial-watch all those Lifetime chick flicks and get a clue!"

"Hang on a sec, Lanie - "

"Shut up! I'm venting!" Slamming the scalpel on her tray, Lanie picked up another hooked surgical instrument and pointed it at Kate. "I'm serious, girl. You can't keep stringing Castle along like this. He'll leave for real next time, I know it! He was this close - " She held her thumb and index fingertips less than a quarter of an inch apart. " - to leaving last time, and it's only because he still loves you that he's not hopping in that Ferrari and trolling his book parties for girls!"

"Lanie, c'mon, don't overreact - "

Wrong thing to say. "Overreact? OVERREACT?" screeched Lanie. "This is not overreacting! This is being realistic! If you don't slap a bumper sticker on that ass saying MINE, NOT YOURS, there will be nothing keeping those skinny babydoll groupies from swarming around it like sharks coming for chum!"

"Lanie - "

"Don't tell me you haven't worried about some bodice-ripper-reading bimbo acting out her wild fantasies with him - "

"Wait, Lanie - "

" - with you waiting at home like a lonely spinster pining for a Don Juan to sweep you off your feet - "

"Lanie - "

" - can't see why you two don't just - "

"LANIE, CASTLE AND I ALREADY SLEPT TOGETHER!" Kate screamed.

Silence. It was like the dead bodies around them were holding their breath as well. Lanie's expression slowly adapted the wide-eyed look of someone shocked out of their skin. But no sooner had it settled that her eyes slowly narrowed into slits. Kate began to lean away from her best friend as the medical examiner picked up her scalpel again to point it at the detective.

"Say what now?" Lanie said through gritted teeth. "You and Writer Boy made sheet music and DIDN'T TELL ME?"

Kate sighed.

* * *

><p><strong>Tag to "Always" because let's face it, that was an AWESOME way to leave us hanging!<strong>

**Review please! We're almost to the halfway mark!**


	26. Disappearance

**Disclaimer: I don't own _C__astle _or else we'd already know who Castle's dad is.**

**Prompt #25: Disappearance - The discovery made him vanish within himself, and Beckett was the only one who could talk him back.**

**Words: 1,133**

* * *

><p>Richard Castle was gone.<p>

Nobody knew where he was. He took enough clothes for up to a week. His house in the Hamptons was empty. He had effectively dropped off the face of the earth, and nobody knew how to find him.

Gina and Black Pawn Publishing got a short message saying he would be taking some time off and not to contact him. Alexis only got a text on her phone saying he was going someplace quiet and not to worry about him. Martha recieved a terse voicemail saying the same thing, along with the accusatory "How could you not tell me?" tacked at the end.

Those who didn't know Kate Beckett thought she was being incomparably cold. She didn't seem to care about Castle's sudden vanishing act, and there was no indication that she was looking for him. She was cool as a cucumber and impassive as a mountain face, working through her paperwork like an automaton.

Those who did know her, however, knew she was suffering, that seeing Castle so broken had hurt worse than anything she'd ever experienced, including the bullet that had almost killed her.

She'd never seen him so distraught before. Not in all her years of knowing him. She'd tried to get him to talk about it, but even she had no luck.

Well, he'd just recieved a tremendous shock to his system. A shock that rocked his very foundations, potentially calling into question everything he ever believed in.

Richard Castle now knew who and what his father was.

And the discovery shattered everything he thought he knew about himself. He needed space and time to put the pieces back together, and Beckett was more than willing to give him that time and space. She'd needed it herself, once upon a summer.

The week passed. Then another passed. People began to worry even more when nobody could reach him. Calls went straight to voicemail, texts went unanswered. His credit cards and bank accounts showed no activity aside from a large cash withdrawl the day he disappeared. Ryan and Esposito even tried locating him with his phone's GPS or his car's LoJack. Neither panned out - Castle's experiences with the precinct had given him the knowledge to disable both. He had gone completely off the grid.

When Richard Castle ran away from home, he did it well.

Still Beckett worked her days away, solving murders with the same dogged determination as always. She barely spoke to anyone about her private life and stopped hanging with her coworkers outside of work. Not even Lanie was able to break through the stoic shields that Beckett had raised about herself. Her friends knew it was her way of coping and let sleeping dogs lie, sure that she'd bounce back in her own good time.

* * *

><p>A month after Castle disappeared, Beckett's phone buzzed on her nightstand at four AM. Ever since Castle left, she'd been unable to sleep for more than three hours at a time. She sat up, shutting her book and rubbing her untired eyes as she flipped open her phone without looking at her caller ID. "Beckett."<p>

"_Kate, it's Alexis._"

"What's wrong?" she asked, instantly alert. "Is it Castle?"

"_I just got a text from him. He's in Central Park. Meet me there, please?_"

"I'll pick you up and we'll go together." Beckett threw on her jacket over her tank top and sweatpants, crammed her feet into a pair of shoes, and grabbed her keys before she hung up. She made good time to the Castle loft, where Alexis was waiting on the sidewalk in her pajamas and a jacket as well, wearing sneakers and a worried expression on her pale face.

The streets of New York City were almost empty at that time of night, so Beckett flouted most conventional traffic laws in her haste to get to Central Park as fast as possible. Part of her was terrified that if they didn't hurry, Castle might disappear like the morning mist that still had its vaporous grip on the city streets.

They found a parking spot and bolted from the car, two women desperately searching for the man they loved. Armed with Beckett's flashlight, they scoured every bench, every trail, every hidey-hole and every inch of the entire park. Sunrise was almost upon them, staining the eastern sky with streaks of red and orange when Alexis pointed and whispered, "There."

His back to them, he sat at the edge of Bethesda Fountain as it gurgled and bubbled, his gaze staring at something unseen. The Angel of the Waters seemed to watch over him, her arms reaching for him as if to say, "Here he is."

Beckett held Alexis back as they started forward cautiously, each step taking almost too long to execute. Slowly the distance between them narrowed.

Thirty feet.

Twenty feet.

Ten.

Five.

Three.

His head tilted ever so slightly. "Alexis?"

A trembling smile broke over the red-haired girl's face. "Hey Dad." She stepped in front of Beckett, hesitated for a second, then reached back and grasped the detective's hand. "Kate's here with me."

"Kate?"

When Castle turned to face them, Beckett's heart broke. His clothes hung looser off his body and his face was pinched and drawn, as if he hadn't been eating well. The dancing blue eyes she remembered were dull now, filled with a hurt even worse than when he learned that she remembered his confession. They blinked now, as if unable to believe she was standing before him.

"You gave us all quite a scare, Castle," Beckett said, giving him a weak smile.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he rose to his feet. "I just..."

"I know." Damn, did she know. He'd needed time to reconcile the truth with himself. "I know, Rick."

Castle opened his arms, and Alexis ran into them sobbing like a child. Beckett approached more slowly, but her embrace was just as tight as his daughter's. The three hugged each other long after the sun rose and burned off the morning mist, spreading light across Central Park and ending Beckett's month-long nightmare.

There'd be questions later. Where he'd been, what he'd done, how could he do this to the people who cared about him? But for now, Beckett reveled in the strength of his embrace.

Richard Castle had come home.

* * *

><p><strong>And here we are, at the halfway mark! Enjoy the angst!<strong>

**Review please!**


	27. Daughter

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #26: Daughter - Alexis would worry about him, but she felt that she was leaving him in good hands.**

**Words: 626**

* * *

><p>Alexis stuffed the last of her clothes in her suitcases, wrapped her trinkets up for transport, and made sure she had every last bit of her stuff. Looking around her now-empty room, she gave her bed one last pat and began transferring her belongings downstairs.<p>

Her father was sitting in his study with the door open, busily typing away on his laptop. When he saw her dragging a suitcase down the stairs, he closed the lid. "How ya doing, Alexis?" he asked. "Need help?"

"I'm fine Dad, really," she insisted.

He still rose from his desk. "You know I'd help."

"Exactly, Dad. I knew that. But you're coming up on your deadline, and I don't think Nikki Heat can stand another postponing of her daring rooftop chase. Did you leave her dangling again?"

The writer wrinkled his nose at the redhead. "You make it sound like I torture her."

"Because you do. Every time you up and leave your manuscript, leaving her in a dangerous situation."

"She can take care of herself."

"Because you have to write her out of it."

"In good time." He put a hand over hers on the suitcase handle. "Talk to me, honey. What's on your mind?"

Father and daughter headed to the couch and sat together, cuddling as they did when she was a child. Alexis smiled. "You know I worry about you, Dad. Sometimes it wasn't clear which of us was the kid and who was the adult."

"I've gotten better."

"You keep telling yourself that. Look, you need a lot of looking after. Usually that'd be my job." Alexis rested her head on his shoulder. "But now I'm leaving. Moving into my own place."

Her father smiled proudly. "Striking out on your own. Making your own mark on the world."

"Point is, you're going to be here without me." Alexis sighed. "Without Gram. And let's face it, you're used to taking care and being taken care of by both of us. See my point here?"

"You're worried about me," her father said. "I understand."

Alexis sat up and faced him. "But I also know that I'm not leaving you completely alone. You've got the 12th. You've got Detective Ryan and Detective Esposito. And you've got Kate." Her smile grew even bigger. "I know Kate will take care of you."

"Because I'm so obviously helpless without her," he said.

"But you've got to take care of her too," Alexis said firmly.

"Don't I always?"

The redhead gave him an exasperated look. "I'm serious, Dad. And remember, she's not as likely to let you get away with slacking as Gram and I."

"Alexis, I got it," he said. "You're worried about me. Honestly, I thought I was supposed to be the one with seperation anxiety. What a role reversal."

Alexis giggled. "Kind of a habit in our family, isn't it?"

"That it is." Her father wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tightly. "That's what makes us so interesting, isn't it?"

The two Castles embraced for another half-minute, then Alexis headed back upstairs for the rest of her things. She took one last look around her old room, basking in the memories, then continued recollecting as she headed down the stairs.

There had been a lot of memories made in the loft. Leaving that - and her father - behind would be tough. But Alexis wasn't overly worried. Like her, her father had done a lot of growing up over the years.

_He'll be okay_, she thought happily. _Kate will look after him - and kick his butt when he gets fresh_.

* * *

><p><strong>This turned wholly Alexis-centric, sorry bout that. But it's nice, right?<strong>

**Review please!**


	28. Turnabout

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle_.**

**Prompt #27: Turnabout - Fair play is fair play.**

**Words: 566**

* * *

><p>Most of the teasing banter served between Richard Castle and Kate Beckett treads a fine line between sexual innuendo and flat-out flirting. It only stands to reason that a good majority of their back-and-forth is turnabout.<p>

Castle normally instigates the innuendo-tossing. A throwback to his playboy days, it's a hard habit to break when he's in the presence of a beautiful woman. Most of the time, his quick wit and clever tongue will gain a laugh and a pretty blush from his conversation partner. If he's lucky, they can get him quite a bit more too.

Problem was, Beckett's sharper than most women, and she's quick to boot. So when he shoots off the innuendo, she comes right back with one of her own. And most of the time, it's a pretty good shot below the belt that leaves his head spinning with possibilities. It's actually quite entertaining, if a maddening exercise in controlling his impulses.

Sometimes, Ryan and Esposito have to roll their eyes at the rising level of suggestiveness those two get going. Other times, it's freaking adorable because Castle usually sets himself up. At some point, subtext morphs into regular text and it just devolves into a ridiculous merry-go-round of hint-hint, wink-wink, nudge-nudge.

Then it's only a matter of time before the dam breaks.

* * *

><p>It was a noteworthy day when Castle strolled into the 12th proclaiming, "I've got a <em>Heat Flash<em>!" in a singsong voice and _absolutely no one_ thought this was strange enough to warrant a stare at the writer.

"Reached that point in your life, eh Castle?" Beckett asked as she rolled her eyes.

But Miranda clapped her hands with equal excitement. "It's out?" she asked. "Really?"

"And as asked, Detective Reynolds, here is your first hot-of-the-press copy," Castle said without missing a beat, presenting the hardback volume to the younger detective. "See if you can discern which character is based on you."

"My bet's on the female detective with the stripper name," advised Beckett.

"That's just for you, Kate."

Miranda smiled as she cracked open _Heat Flash _and sat down at her desk. She was able to find her character quite easily - Detective River Blaise. A nice name, if a bit stripper-sounding. Closing the book again, she tuned back into Castle and Beckett's Flirt Station.

"Ha! So you admit that Nikki Heat is a stripper name!"

"Never said it wasn't."

"While your character's name is Irish whiskey with a chess synonym for your last name!"

"It's catchy!"

"It's a porn-star name!"

"Is not! I never had a pet!" A lecherous look overcame to his expression. "What about you?"

"What?"

"Porn name. First pet, first street."

Beckett shook her head. "No way, not saying. I'll blow your delicate consititution out of the water."

He gave her a look of disbelief. "Yeah, right. C'mon, lay it on me."

Now the smile was on Beckett's face. "I had a cat named Frisky."

"Oooh, sounds good already," drooled Castle. "And the first street you lived on?"

"We caught a lead!"

Miranda and Castle sighed at the poor timing. The writer shot Beckett a _This conversation isn't over _look as Esposito and Ryan began talking about their newest lead.

* * *

><p><strong>Have no idea how this came to be. And another <em>Firefly <em>drop, if you can find it!**

**Review please!**


	29. Declaration

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle_.**

**Prompt #28: Declaration - They were not expecting their super-serious Beckett to shout "Bam, said the lady!" and slap Castle a high five.**

**Words: 512**

* * *

><p>"Something's wrong," Esposito said uneasily to his partner.<p>

"I agree," Ryan said. "It's really creepy, right?"

"Yeah. Especially since nothing's happened yet."

"Right? They're being...real weird."

The two men looked across the bullpen to where Beckett and Castle were sitting at Beckett's desk chowing down on Chinese food. It was a normal enough picture, but the conversation happening between bites was anything but.

"It's totally plausible."

"Absolutely not. The logistics are all wrong. You'd need more power than that."

"But that's the beauty of it. An arc reactor would definitely - "

"You need to get your facts straight."

"What facts? We just find a genius and it can be done."

And so the banter continued. But unlike the usual stream of things, Beckett didn't show any signs of ending this argument anytime soon. In fact, she seemed to be feeding Castle's argument with a genuine smile on her face.

Ryan glanced back at his partner. "You know, under normal circumstances, this wouldn't be that big a deal."

"But this isn't normal," Esposito pointed out. "Something has to be wrong."

"But what?" asked Ryan. "Castle hasn't done anything stupid or acted dense lately, has he?"

Esposito shook his head. "Nope. Not that I've seen. Lanie hasn't said anything about it either."

"So what's got them acting so weird?"

That, it seemed, was the million-dollar question. And for the life of them, the two detective couldn't figure out the answer.

* * *

><p>"Oh my god, did you see their faces?" Beckett laughed later that night, dropping onto the sofa and kicking up her feet. "They looked so confused!"<p>

"Wasn't that the general plan?" Castle clarified, handing her a glass of red wine.

"Yeah, but I didn't think it'd be so funny!" She took a sip and set down the glass before her giggles made her drop it. "I feel bad for them."

"Liar. It was all your idea."

"We were both fighting to keep a straight face all day, mister," Beckett accused.

"Yeah, but in my case, that's normal. You? That was freaky for them." Castle's sudden smile was pure mischief. "You wanna really throw them for a loop?"

Her smile flashed with devilish glee. "Yeah!"

"All right then, tomorrow let's go in and..."

* * *

><p>When the ballistics report came in, Castle could barely contain his excitement. "The slug in the victim matches the ones dug out of the witness's wall! Both came from Roger's gun! He did it!"<p>

"Bam, said the lady!" Beckett crowed, slapping his outstretched in a triumphant high-five. He caught her hand in his and pulled her against his side in a clearly intimate embrace, causing Beckett to laugh in surprise.

"Javi," Ryan said, eyeing the partners with something akin to alarm, "this is really getting freaky."

"Courage bro, courage," Esposito said, patting him on the back.

Nestled beside Castle with her head resting on his shoulder, Beckett almost couldn't contain her fit of giggles.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>


	30. Snippets

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #29: Snippets - They drop little hints about their pasts that only make them want to know more.**

**Words: 607**

* * *

><p>It's a cruel practice, but Kate loves to drop those little hints about her past. Seeing Castle squirm at the sexual innuendo was one of her favorite pastimes.<p>

Her motorcycle was always a fun tease. She could almost _see _his mind spinning at the idea of her in black leather, ready to tear up the asphalt on her '94 Harley Softail. One day she walked into the precinct with her helmet under her arm, and the look on his face was utterly priceless.

That time they were about to enter Drake's Magic Shop, Castle had to ask if she knew any good tricks. She could've answered any other way, but the need to see him squirm made her mention her ice cube trick. He was weak-kneed in an instant, making her giggle when she was out of earshot.

Her tattoo was a fun thing to dangle on occassion. His eyes would drag over her body as if trying to see through her clothes (another secret fantasy of his, no doubt) for the inked flesh.

Sometimes, however, revealing her past wasn't as fun as she intended it to be. When Madison walked back into her life, Castle got almost too much enjoyment out of pumping her for information. When she was accusing Beckett of wanting to have little Castle babies, the detective had to fight blushing like a schoolgirl and give herself away.

* * *

><p>He doesn't have many secrets in his past (being a bestselling author with multiple fan sites had that effect) but the ones he could tell, Castle loved to share. Watching Beckett's face light up with surprise was something he always loved to watch.<p>

His parenting skills (or lack thereof) were a frequent source of information for such tales. Apparently it was unusual for successful-novelist single fathers to raise their own children and not pawn them off to nannies. He could see his brownie-point standing rise ever so slightly each time he divulged a parenthood trial or triumph.

His given name was a good one. Beckett had been acting off all through that case with the psychic, especially after speaking with the victim's daughter. When she admitted that Penny had said some odd things regarding Alexander, Castle decided to tell her about it. Her expression was completely worth it.

The boarding school scam with his gas card was an unintentional giveaway. However, it served to bring a smug grin of "I knew it" to Beckett's face. That was almost as fun as shocking her.

But sometimes, revealing a truth about himself was too hard. When Beckett asked about his interest in the macabre, he couldn't resist the urge to spin a yarn about the dead boy on the beach. He just couldn't tell the truth, because not only was he unsure of it himself, but he had the feeling that his real reason was too strange to be understood, even by a homicide detective.

* * *

><p>Tidbits of their childhoods and pasts before "The Partnership" are hard to come by. They're intensely private people by nature.<p>

But their nature is contradicted by their jobs. She's the detective who asks all the hard-hitting questions to find that elusive motive for murder. He's the novelist who searches everywhere for that authentic feel to throw into his tales.

So when a little nugget of info on their partner surfaces in the course of an investigation, Castle and Beckett happily squirrel it away. After all, knowledge is power.

Not to mention if you have enough dirt on a person, you can lord it over them.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>


	31. Johanna

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #30: Johanna - She smiled when she heard her brunette daughter's laughter mingling with her husband's.**

**Words: 376**

* * *

><p>"Mama, Mama! Look!"<p>

Her mother looked up from her paperwork and smiled. "That's a very good drawing, honey," she said, looking at the stick figures. "Is that me?"

"No Mama, you're the one with the black jacket," said the little girl. "That's Dad there, in the brown one."

The woman's smile grew larger when she saw the unmistakeable brown coat. "Why, so it is. Where are we, honey?"

"Putting away bad guys! See?" Her daughter pointed at the scowling stick-person being led away by the blue-dressed police officer. "You got him! Going to get locked up!"

"Sure looks like it." She closed her book, and reached down to hug the five-year-old girl. "Did you show your father yet?"

The girl gasped. "No! I'm gonna do it now!" With that statement, she bolted for her father's room faster than a rabbit. Within a minute, there was a booming male laugh mixed in with girlish squealing that painted a clear picture of a high spinning hug.

Johanna Beckett laughed to herself, then returned to her work amid the sounds of her family.

* * *

><p><strong>Many years later...<strong>

"Mama, Mama!"

Kate looked up and saw her daughter speeding into the living room like a miniature tornado. "What is it, honey?" she asked.

"Look what I drew! It's you and Dad!" crowed the child, presenting her artwork.

When she saw the picture, Kate smiled fondly. Yes, it was comprised of stick figures. Yes, one was of her in her black leather jacket, while the other was of her husband in his signature brown coat. The major difference was that it was Kate leading the scowling stick-criminal away.

Kate almost shed a tear, but knowing that it was her unbalanced hormones kept it at bay. "That's very good, sweetie," she said to her daughter. "Why don't you go show Daddy?"

"Okay!" chirped the girl before taking off again. Just like her father, a bundle of energy and always on the go.

Kate Castle rubbed her swollen belly and smiled when she heard Rick praising the five-year-old's artistic talent from his study, followed by their daughter's squealing laughs as she was picked up and spun around.

* * *

><p><strong>Yes, I did the past-mirrors-future fic. Here is your fluff.<strong>

**Review please!**


	32. Searing

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #31: Searing - He couldn't get her out of his mind. She couldn't keep him out of her thoughts.**

**Words: 494**

* * *

><p>"Hey, Kate?" <em>Well, here goes.<em>

"Yeah?"

"We gonna talk about it?" _Smooth, Castle_. _Very smooth. Say something else remarkably stupid. Go on_.

"About what?"

"You know what." _This is killing me. You're killing me, Kate_.

"Oh, you mean...that."

"Yeah, that." _Please don't shoot me, please don't shoot me..._

"What about it?"

_Wait, what? ARE YOU SERIOUS? _"Um, howabout the fact that you're sleeping over after we had the worst fight in our four years of knowing each other?"

"You complaining?"

"No." _No, most definitely not, not after I've dreamed about this pretty much since I first met you...Focus Castle, focus. _"But, you gotta admit, some people might think you're just rapidly decompressing after...everything that's happened."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Kate?"<p>

"Yeah?" _Crap, he looks worried._

"We gonna talk about it?"

_You got this, Kate. You got this, you got this... _"About what?" _Dammit!_

"You know what."

"Oh, you mean...that." _Of course he means how I practically jumped him at the door! What else could he mean?_

"Yeah, that."

"What about it?" _Please don't have second thoughts, please don't have second thoughts..._

"Um, howabout the fact that you're sleeping over after we had the worst fight in our four years of knowing each other?"

"You complaining?" _Because I'm sure as hell not. DAMN, can this man love a woman well..._

"No. But, you gotta admit, some people might think you're just rapidly decompressing after...everything that's happened."

* * *

><p>As soon as he said it, Castle and Beckett both realized that it was the wrong thing to say.<p>

This was bad.

Very bad.

They could see it in each other's eyes. The second-guessing. The discomfort. The worry.

Second-guessing what had just happened between them. Discomfort at being found out. Worry that they'd broken a friendship that they valued as much as anything else in their respective lives.

But then Castle's mind was suddenly filled with Kate, every single one of her expressions, all of her quirks and traits, right down to how she looked under him as she was ready to come apart. His jaw set, his lips firming in a determined line.

Likewise, Kate's mind was overrun with Castle, his smiles and his jokes and his voice in general, all his theories and hunches, right up to where he held her last night and whispered how he loved her. She took a deep, steadying breath and met his eyes.

The worry and doubt vanished.

He decided to speak first. "Kate?"

"Castle?"

"...We're gonna work through this, right? Together?"

She smiled at him and scooted closer, resting her cheek against his chest. "Yeah," she whispered. "Of course we are."

He held her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You're not gonna sneak out before breakfast, right?" he teased.

"You kidding?" She looked up with a grin. "I better be getting pancakes in bed, mister."

* * *

><p><strong>Post "Always". Anyone else excited for the new season? September 24th, and I've seen the promo!<strong>

**Review please!**


	33. Pigtails

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #32: Pigtails - He couldn't help pulling at them. He had the irrational fear that if he didn't, he'd lose her.**

**Words: 475**

* * *

><p><em>Sometimes I worry about Kate.<em>

_It's not often that I do. I mean, I do, but not this type of worry._

_I feel like she's pulling away from me again._

_It's a case of a mother shot and killed in an alley. It has all the earmarks of a robbery, but Kate's determined to prove that it was a hit orchastrated by the same people who had her mother killed._

_The similarities are blatantly obvious. Victim was a lawyer, prosecutor, and she left behind a teenage daughter. Files are missing from her home office. No suspects, no witnesses._

_Kate's becoming engrossed in this case. I feel her slipping away, like sand through my fingers._

_She's going back to that dark place again. I know it._

_So I pester. I annoy. I pick and prod and joke and jest and tug at her pigtails._

_I can't lose her._

_So I hold out my hand and hope to God she comes back to me._

* * *

><p><em>I know Castle's worried about me.<em>

_But he shouldn't be._

_I know it's the same guys. It has to be. The M.O.'s are identical._

_If I can find the connection between this case and my mother's...if I can find the killer...if I can find the mastermind..._

_If...If...If...If..._

_If I don't get a grip, I'm going to slide back to that place._

_Castle knows it. That's probably why he's being extra-annoying lately. Pulling my pigtails, as it were._

_He's trying to ground me._

_So I take the hand he offers, and pull myself back into reality._

* * *

><p>"This case was really bad," she admitted that night.<p>

Looking up from his laptop, Castle watched as she moved from the doorway of his study to perch her butt on his desk. "Yeah," he agreed.

It had been a random incident. Not the men who'd killed her mother and very nearly killed her. The news would have devastated her, but Kate had returned to reality before that had happened. Castle had succeeded in bringing her back.

But not without angry words, harsh and stinging, flung from her lips in the heat of frustration and hate.

"I, um..." Kate glanced down, then looked at him again through lowered lashes. "I'm sorry."

He'd already forgiven her, but Castle said, "It's all right."

"And thanks."

"For what?"

"For being you." She smiled and reached to touch his cheek. "For keeping me grounded. For pulling my pigtails so I don't run off after bad men without thinking."

He smiled back, covering her hand with his own. "Always, Kate," he whispered. They stayed that way for a minute before he shut his computer's lid. "C'mon Detective, let's get some sleep."

"Okay."

* * *

><p><strong>Just a snippet I came up with.<strong>

**Review please!**


	34. Green

**Disclaimer: I don't own _C__astle._**

**Prompt #33: Green - Jealousy did not suit either of them. And yet they continued to wear it out and about.**

**Words: 431**

* * *

><p>She's jealous again. He's got a blonde floozy on his arm for this newest appearance in the paper.<p>

It's hard to hide it, but she manages to keep it from Castle. She settles for the occasional cold shoulder and a sharper than usual edge to her voice when she has to speak with him.

She goes home to an empty house and a hidden murder board that keeps her from having the man of her dreams.

Her inner monster growls and wishes for some floozy to tear apart.

And seethes.

* * *

><p>He's jealous again. She's going out with another guy.<p>

However, he doesn't telegraph it as obviously as Beckett does. No, he settles for glares and smart remarks at the new man in her life.

He goes home to a glass of Scotch and a literary world where he could have the girl of his dreams.

His inner monster snarls and prays for the chance to rip some schmuck apart.

And glowers.

* * *

><p>While they're trying to be inconspicuous about it, everyone else has to watch this painfully obvious dance.<p>

Lanie has to contain herself and not flip out on Beckett whenever she mopes around the morgue. She could only tell the detective to put on her big-girl panties and fix the problem so many times.

Esposito and Ryan sigh and try to not make the situation even more awkward. Either one in a bad mood is a downer, and it gets hard to not tell the other to figure out why his partner is being a wet blanket.

Alexis and Martha would roll their eyes whenever Castle sulked around the house because of Beckett's love life. It affected them more than they let on, and sometimes it was all they could do not to tell Beckett.

But they know that they can't outright tell the two. No, that wouldn't be fair to either. So they watch, and hope, and pray that someday, somehow, they'll figure it out themselves.

* * *

><p>It took four years and a few more people, but finally, Castle and Beckett figured out what everyone else knew.<p>

He wakes up to rumpled sheets and the sight of their clothes tossed across the floor. A satisfied smile blooms on his face as he realizes that it wasn't a dream this time.

She walks in to see his smile and can't help her answering grin. She couldn't believe it was real at first, but seeing him still there cemented it.

And their green-eyed monsters growl no more.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>


	35. Impression

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle_.**

**Prompt #34: Impression - First thing every new person asks, without fail: "Are you two together?"**

**Words: 291**

* * *

><p>It's a common enough question.<p>

And it's asked often enough to drive her insane.

How could anyone expect her to be involved with someone as obnoxious, immature, and unattainable as Richard Castle?

But still, no matter where, not matter what, no matter when, it always gets asked in some way, shape, or form.

"You two together?"

"He your boyfriend?"

"You sure you're not...?"

She always answered "No" or "Of course not."

Because she's not holding her breath.

It'll never happen.

* * *

><p>It's a question heard time and again.<p>

And it's been asked enough to make him crazy.

How did anyone believe that he could be with someone as stuffy, straight-laced, and spectacular as Kate Beckett?

But still, no matter who, no matter the case, no matter the timing, it's always asked.

"You with her?"

"She your girlfriend?"

"You really aren't together?"

He always answered "Yes" or "Not yet."

Because he's hopeful.

It could happen.

* * *

><p>It's another normal day at the precinct. The suspect is in the interrogation room with Beckett and Castle. Esposito, Ryan, and Gates are watching from behind the two-way mirror.<p>

The suspect asks that age-old question. "You two sleeping together or something?"

In perfect sync, they respond, "No."

For Gates, a relative newcomer, this isn't anything more than a confirmation of what she already knows - they're professionals. That's all.

For Esposito and Ryan, who have followed like old ladies with their favorite soap operas and shipped the partners _so hard_, this is the clincher than seals the deal on all their suspicions. They share a grin and resolve to share with fellow shipper Lanie as soon as possible.

They're together. Finally.

* * *

><p><strong>ANYONE ELSE SQUEALING FOR SEASON FIVE? I KNOW I AM!<strong>

**Review please!**


	36. Wordsmith

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #35: Wordsmith - Funny how when it came down to the wire, he couldn't say a damn thing to stop her.**

**Words: 457**

* * *

><p>This rarely happens to him. Hell, he's Richard Castle, the famous crime novelist. Words are supposed to line up around the block for the chance to jump from his lips.<p>

But he's speechless. Absolutely speechless.

Then again, he's trying to talk to Kate.

He had to make a conscious effort to speak around her. She was just that spectacular, able to stop him dead with a look or a smile or a sentance loaded with sexual innuendo. She was more effective than a gun in his face or a bomb or a freezer or any of the life-threatening things he's come across since he started to shadow her. She's always had a way of making his tongue trip up and scattering his words like a dog scatters sheep. It's this weird curse she has over him, the power to make all his elegant verbal script rattle off its spokes.

So instead of this perfectly worded refusal he'd spent the last five minutes crafting, he could only say, "Kate...don't do this."

She sighed heavily. "Castle, I'm all right."

He opened his mouth again...and no words came out. _God, she's beautiful. _He shook his head to clear it and tried again. "You are so far from all right, you're all wrong. Or all left."

"Stop being so overprotective."

"I think I have a right to be, given the situation! You're - "

"Not an invalid," she cut in crossly. "I'm bored, Castle. I want to go."

That, he could argue. "You know you can't."

"But I wanna gooooooooo," Kate whined plaintively. "Pleeeeeeaaaaaase?"

He swallowed the yes that was fighting to be spoken._ C'mon Rick, suck it up. She can't walk over you this time. _"Kate, you really ought to - "

"Ought to what, Rick?" She stared at him with huge, liquid green eyes that were filling with tears. "What? I'm bored and sick and tired of doing nothing. Why won't you let me do this?"

_Aw shit, not the Bambi eyes. _For the second time in ten minutes, the vocabulary section of Richard Castle's brain was down for repairs.

Then she said the words that slayed him completely. "Don't you love me?"

His mouth flapped open and shut, but no sound came out. _You can do it, Rick. Just say no. Just say no. Just say - _

"Okay."

A huge smile broke across Kate's face. "Thank you!" she cried, throwing her arms around his neck tightly and kissing him. "Let's go!"

He gave a heavy sigh of his own. _God, Gates is gonna kill me if she finds out I brought a pregnant Kate to a crime scene..._

* * *

><p><strong>So...many...updates... and yes, Kate's OOC but hey, pregnant women sometimes are.<strong>

**Review please!**


	37. 3XK

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #36: 3XK - When the bodies started to drop, she made sure Castle was never out of her sight for a moment.**

**Words: 712**

* * *

><p><em>That bastard's back.<em>

Kate Beckett stared down at the dead body and felt the cold dread clench at her stomach. She was very scared of few things, but this ranked highest on that short list.

This wasn't like the last time, when only Ryan's stolen gun surfaced and had them fearing the worst. No, there was a body this time. An actual body of a young woman, strangled in her apartment and laid out in a funeral pose, as if asleep.

Jerry Tyson, the Triple Killer, was once again roaming the streets of New York City.

But this time, as he'd told Castle years ago, he changed up his game. Along with all the earmarks of a 3XK murder, this victim was a redhead, the spitting image of Alexis. To add hurt to the horror, she was found with _Heat Wave _clasped beneath her folded hands.

It was a message directed straight at Castle. _It's your fault she's dead_.

Once Gates learned about the connection, she promptly benched Castle at the precinct and ordered a protective detail on his loft apartment for Martha. Personally, Beckett thought this was awfully lenient for the captain. But Gates had her reason - what place in New York City was safer than a police station? (Beckett wisely decided not to mention the Dick Coonan debacle years ago.)

Watching Castle was like watching a caged animal. When he wasn't staring at the murder board, he was reading through every case file they had on Tyson and his murders, and when he wasn't doing that, he was brewing another cup of coffee. The cycle continued without end until Beckett finally took pity on him and drove him home.

Her home.

She didn't care how many patrols were sitting on his loft, Castle was safest with her. No way in hell she'd let Tyson anywhere near him.

* * *

><p>A couple of glasses of wine later and Beckett still had to wrangle him into staying on the couch. It was like Castle was unable to shut himself down.<p>

"We'll catch him," she assured the writer for the umpteenth time that night, resting a hand on his bouncing knee to stop it. "Ryan and Esposito are going over all the evidence with a fine-tooth comb. Everyone's on high alert. Tyson will slip up eventually, we know it's going to happen."

"He's back to torture me." The level of self-loathing in Castle's voice was caustic as acid.

"Hey." Beckett reached over and touched his cheek, gently pulling his face to look at her. "We're gonna catch him."

"But how many others will die before we do?" His voice was raw with pain. "We don't even know if he'll stop at three women like before. He's changed his M.O, Kate, and now we have to change how we think in order to catch him."

"That's not your fault, Rick."

"I thought it was Alexis."

Beckett blinked, then understood. "Rick, Alexis is at college. She's fine, remember? You called her just this morning. She's safe."

The look in Castle's eyes changed to feral in an instant. "If he goes after my little girl..."

"We'll nail his ass to the ground before he gets anywhere near her," Beckett finished. Impulsively she leaned closer to kiss him, and when he crushed her lips in response, she let him.

Later that night Beckett lay beside him, staring at the ceiling as she listened to Castle breathe. She sat up and looked over her shoulder at the sleeping writer. A small smile touched her lips. For the moment, his expression was peaceful and calm.

_But as long as Tyson is loose, he won't sleep so easy again_, she understood. _Can't always knock him out with sex_. Careful to move quietly, she slid out of bed and pulled his t-shirt over her head for cover. She padded into the kitchen barefoot and pulled out her copy of the case file.

Jerry Tyson was going down this time. Kate Beckett was making sure of it. He wouldn't hurt Castle or his family, ever.

After all, they were her family as well.

* * *

><p><strong>Gotta say, completely loving Season 5 so far!<strong>

**Review please! We're getting close to 125, can we go to 150?**


	38. Ring

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #37: Ring - It hung from her neck like Marley's chains, its links forged not from mistakes, but regrets.**

**Words: 597**

* * *

><p>The first time he saw the ring was when Beckett was explaining her drive to be a cop. She pulled out the chain it hung from, showing a beautiful wedding ring that sparkled in the light from her desk. It was called a memento for "the life she lost" and a partner to her father's watch, worn to represent "the life she saved."<p>

That conversation haunted Castle for hours after he left the precinct. It kept him awake, made him unable to write or even brainstorm Nikki Heat. All he could think about was the amount of grief he'd sensed from Beckett when she revealed her mother's wedding ring to him. Remembering the story she told him was a heartbreak in and of itself.

After knowing of its existence, sometimes Castle found himself glancing at the chain barely visible around her neck. He'd seen talismans of sadness before, and he knew people who hung on to such talismans. They needed them to function, to force themselves through the day without cursing the world or collapsing in grief.

Although it tied her to a bloody past, the ring kept Beckett strong, and tough, and compassionate. It had made her the exceptional, spectacular detective he'd come to know and respect.

* * *

><p>The next time was when he had to collect Beckett's personal effects after she was shot at Captain Montgomery's funeral. He managed to charm the nurse on duty to give them to him before Doctor Motorcycle Boy could.<p>

Her mother's wedding ring glittered under the harsh florescent lights like cheap jewelry. Castle shook it out of its plastic bag and closed his fingers over the ring, as if protecting it from the horror that had befallen its wearer. It was cold in his palm, icy even, almost like an omen. Almost like it knew what had brought Kate to this place had something to do with the murder of its previous owner...

His writer's brain was really pushing the line if it had started associating culpability and blame to a piece of jewelry. Castle let out an exasperated huff and shook his head to rid himself of those dark thoughts. _No, Kate's going to be fine. She'll be fine. She'll be...she's going to be.._.

Castle swallowed and tried to focus on the positive. Beckett was a fighter. Always had been. She wouldn't give up after coming this far. It wasn't in her nature. That was the remarkable Kate Beckett he'd fallen in love with.

Squeezing his fist tightly over the ring and chain, he slipped it into his pocket and went to rejoin Martha and Alexis by the OR, the ring a comforting weight against his skin.

* * *

><p>The third time was after she showed up on his doorstep and they finally, <em>finally <em>gave into the feelings four years in the making.

As Beckett slept peacefully beside him, Castle noticed the necklace where she'd put it on the nightstand. He reached over and picked up the ring, admiring it in the dim light of the city from his window.

It had seen her through so much hurt, so much pain, and he was glad it had. Despite the painful memories, Beckett had kept it close to her heart.

He replaced it on the nightstand, pressed a kiss to Beckett's forehead, and laid down beside her again. "You've been with her through everything," he whispered to Johanna's ring. "Now it's my turn. I'll keep her safe. I promise."

* * *

><p><strong>So, how epic that they've coined Caskett on the actual show? :)<strong>

**Please review!**


	39. Child

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #38: Child - She really found his immaturity kind of endearing. Annoying, but cute.**

**Words: 468**

* * *

><p>"Please?"<p>

_Oh, God help me please, _Kate prayed as she stared at a pair of impossibly baby blues. She had always been a sucker for those blue eyes.

"Pleeeeeeeease?"

She swallowed when their power was turned on to the max. "Really? You're giving _me _the puppy-dog stare?"

"Is it working?"

"Not even a little bit," she lied. "I've had years to build up a resistance to it."

"Pleeeeeeease?"

"No way." It was rare that Richard Castle was able to successfully put the mojo on her. But it didn't mean that it didn't affect her just the same. She'd stand firm this time. She wouldn't falter. She wouldn't -

"Pleeeeeeeease?" he tried again, leaning closer and lowering his voice to add, "I'll make it worth your while."

"That's not fair."

"Fair is a relative term," Castle replied. "I've learned enough about you to know that when I want to ask for something, I should be ready to haggle."

Kate shook her head. "Not happening, no matter how tempting that sounds."

"Which brings me to my second lesson learned. When that fails, bring backup."

She grinned cockily. "Really? What, you gonna get Esposito and Ryan in your corner?"

"Nah, they're not my backup." Now Castle was the one grinning. "Like I'd ever bring men into a child's battle." He raised his voice. "Sarah, now!"

Said backup raced to her father's side and unleashed her own baby blue puppy-dog eyes. "Please, Mommy?" she begged. "Pleeeeeeeeeease? I wanna goooooo."

_Aw crap, I'm outnumbered._ Kate flashed a glare at her husband. "Oh, that's just dirty. Getting our daughter to play on your side."

"Safety in numbers," Castle replied.

"You're so immature."

"So I've been told."

Sarah interrupted the conversation by climbing into her mother's lap and asking, "So, can we go to Disney World for my birthday, Mommy?"

"Yeah Mommy," Castle said with a smirk, knowing that he had her, "can we?"

Unable to crush her daughter's dreams, Kate sighed and caved in. "Sure sweetie, we can go."

"Yay!" Sarah threw her arms around Kate's neck and hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Mommy! Thank you!" She pressed a kiss to her mother's cheek and hopped off her lap to lead her father back to the break room, happy as a puppy with a new toy to chew.

Kate heard Esposito chuckle behind her. "You're really a sucker for those baby blue eyes, aren't ya?"

"You try denying a five-year-old a trip to the Magical Kingdom," Kate fired back challengingly. "Ryan can back me up on this. It's tougher than you think."

"Talking about Sarah or Castle?"

Her tone was weary, but fond. "Take your pick."

* * *

><p><strong>Awww, a little Castle! So cute.<strong>

**Review please!**


	40. Intersection

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #39: Intersection - Sometimes they almost met up, but some obstacle always had one veering away before arrival.**

**Words: 731**

* * *

><p>It happened four times.<p>

Four times they could have started.

Four times they were diverted.

Four times, if fate hadn't intervened, they might have been farther along.

* * *

><p><em>That first time, it could have happened if he had played his cards right<em>.

Their first case together was an enormous exercise in futility. They were just two very different individuals brought together because of circumstance...and a dead body.

He prodded playfully, she argued angrily. He went over her head and beyond her back. She scolded him for jumping the line and cuffed him for stealing her files.

But they solved the case, caught the bad guy, and had a real taste of what they were capable of together.

When Castle joked about how they would have been good together, Beckett had to whisper back, "You have no idea."

And with that first miss, he made it his personal mission to get close enough to get an idea.

* * *

><p><em>That second time, it could have worked if she hadn't shot him down<em>.

They'd gone through hell that year. An old flame of Castle's returned. Beckett's apartment blew up thanks to a delusional nutjob. They'd grown closer, learning more about each other than anyone else ever could have.

He'd offered a summer in the Hamptons strictly as a friend. But she'd been with Demming, and that relationship was on the rocks, so she said no.

By the time she figured out what she wanted, Castle had already filled her spot with Gina.

And her chance left on the breeze that carried his words of "See you next fall."

* * *

><p><em>That third time, it was just really bad timing that foiled them<em>.

Their third year just upped the ante on crazy. 3XK made his return appearance, sending everyone on a rollar coaster that wouldn't end after finding Castle and Ryan in the motel room. Beckett's mother's case heated up once more, and the prevention of a terrorist attack on the city almost had Castle and Beckett put on ice for good.

L.A. would have been a great place to hook up. Castle had the hotel dialed. Nobody from New York would have known.

But Royce was dead, and Beckett was emotional, and Castle was too much of a gentleman to pounce on a grieving woman while her good friend and training officer wasn't even cool in his grave yet.

So they went back to NYC without ever addressing the moment that had almost come to be.

* * *

><p><em>That fourth time, if everything hadn't gone sideways, they could have been together<em>.

Montgomery's funeral had been a poor setting to confess his feelings, in retrospect.

But she was down in the grass, bleeding from her heart, and he was coming to grips with the fact that he could be, quite literally, letting her slip through his fingers for good. He would've never forgiven himself if she'd passed without knowing that someone loved her.

So the words kept spilling from his lips as the light faded from her eyes, his hands pressing against her wound trying to keep her there long enough for the ambulance to arrive and save her.

By the time he saw her next, Beckett claimed to not remember his confession.

So when she said, "I'll call you," he left her with Josh and the last chance he ever had.

* * *

><p><em>And that fifth time<em>...

"Wait, five times?" Kate sat up and looked at her husband with a confused pout. "I only count four."

"I'm counting when you shot me down after I called you out on being obsessed with your mother's case and walking out of your apartment," he explained. "You know, before you came over my place in the pouring rain and practically attacked me in the entryway."

"I don't count that one."

"Why?"

She nuzzled the side of his face. "Because after that time, we actually _did _get together."

"Hmmm, you've got a point," he murmured. "But I really thought I was gonna lose you for good that time. So I count it."

They sat in silence for a spell before Kate spoke again. "But we're together now."

"That we are." He wrapped his arms tightly around his wife's waist. "And I'm never letting you go again."

"Right back at ya."

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>


	41. Crutch

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #40: Crutch - She never admitted it, but his novels really kept her going through everything.**

**Words: 914**

* * *

><p>Her mother's murder had left a ragged hole in her soul, and Kate Beckett needed something, anything, to fill that void. So though she didn't know what made her enter the bookstore, she didn't linger on the thought. She just needed new reading material.<p>

Her feet took her through every section with the plodding shuffle of a listless zombie. Nothing seemed to catch her eye, not romance, fiction, fantasy, or sci-fi. The colorful covers could've been flat gray for all she noticed them.

Then she stepped into the mystery section. Out of habit - her mother had loved detective novels - Kate paused and took a moment to peruse the shelves. But once again, nothing caught her interest. Her world was still washed out and gray, like an overcast early morning. She turned to leave - and spotted a table displaying a series of books by someone named Richard Castle.

_Might as well, _she decided. _Nothing else looks interesting._

The table had quite a few books on it, but it was obvious there had been much more. The first book she picked up read _In a Hail of Bullets__. _Her interest was instantly piqued, she cracked open the book and read the summary on the inside dust cover.

**Richard Castle's smash debut novel _**In a Hail of Bullets**_ introduced the world to his electrifying mix of mystery, action, and intrigue. When rookie NYPD detective David McAllister is called to a crime scene on the Upper West Side, he finds a murdered Broadway actress and a seemingly open and shut case. But when the main suspect commits suicide, McAllister senses there's something going on and refuses to let the case go. As he digs deeper into the murder, McAllister soon finds himself hunted by the most powerful people in the city. He must solve the case quickly – or find himself the latest victim of it.**

Kate blinked, feeling her jaw slowly lower in surprise. _Wow_, was all she could think at first. _This is interesting. A cop that won't let go of a case that looks open and shut..._ Now curious, she flipped to the first page and started to read.

She was immediately dragged into the world of David McAllister, the rookie detective who had a gut feeling that something else was afoot in the murder of a Broadway actress. The words painted the clearest picture of New York City, so much so that she could literally see the streets and alleyways that McAllister traversed in his search for the truth. The characters seemed to come alive in her mind, each with their own traits that had Kate wondering who was hiding what from McAllister.

For the first time since the murder, Kate didn't think about her mother's death. She didn't think about the heavy pain in her heart. She didn't think about anything in her reality, actually. All she could think was which of the characters was the shadowy force preventing McAllister from solving his case. When she finally pulled herself from the pages, over two hours had passed and she was almost halfway through the novel.

She quickly picked up two more books and made for the register, cradling the three volumes to her chest like a refugee fleeing from her war-torn country. Never before had she hurried home as fast as she did that day.

Her father barely noticed when she returned to the apartment. He didn't notice much of anything anymore. Still, Kate was very careful to keep her footsteps light and quiet as she headed to her room. Once there, she opened _In a Hail of Bullets _and plunged back into Castle's reality.

Three days later, she was back in the bookstore to get more.

* * *

><p><strong>Present Day...<strong>

Poking through Kate Beckett's things was never a good idea, but Richard Castle was very, very bored and frankly, she should have known better than to leave her possessions spilling out of the cardboard boxes currently migrating into his guest room.

He found her literary selection to be quite eclectic. Romance novels, some historical fiction, and of course, an entire section devoted to crime novels. He smiled at the familiar authors, Patterson, Cannell, Castle...

_Wait, Castle?_ Sure enough, when he looked closer, there was a whole box devoted to his books. Every single one of them, beginning with a rather battered copy of _In a Hail of Bullets_.

Castle pulled out the volume and smiled at the well-worn edges of the dust cover. Obviously this book had been with her through a good number of years. Opening it to the front page, he noted the slight discoloration of the dog-eared pages, a sign that they had been read over and over and over. And there on the page was that adorable "**From the Library of:**" sticker that decorated most of Alexis's books from childhood. On the name line was her familiar scrawl. _Katherine Beckett_.

"Rick? You behaving yourself?"

The smile on his face warmed over as he quietly returned the book to its place in the box. "I haven't hidden any of your things yet, if that's what you're saying."

"Then come down and help with these boxes. It's cold outside and I don't want to freeze my ass off moving my crap into the elevator."

"Yes dear," he drawled, his smile growing wider as he stood up. "I'm coming."

She was standing at the doorway with her hands on her hips and pursed lips. "What were you doing?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nothing bad."

"Then where were you?"

"Poking through your books." He grinned impishly and decided to be truthful. "Never realized how much of a fangirl you actually are. Your copy of _In a Hail of Bullets _is practically falling apart."

"I got it when I was in college." She shrugged. "It got me through some tough times."

Castle heard _tough times _and translated _M__other's death_. Impulse made him close the distance between them and hug her lightly. Beckett wrapped her arms around him in response. They stayed that way for quite some time, and when they parted, she had a smile on her face again.

"You've always made me feel better, Castle," she remarked. "Even before I knew you, you've made my life a little more bearable."

"I try," he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Now c'mon Kate, let's finish getting you moved in."

* * *

><p><strong>Small future fic that I popped out.<strong>

**Review please! We're hitting the final stretch here!**


	42. Magic

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #41: Magic - He didn't want ordinary, and he never got it with her.**

**Words: 674**

* * *

><p>He lived in a world of money and sparkling champagne. So when he heard her say his name, he only assumed that she was there for an autograph.<p>

Hearing that he was wanted for questioning in regards to a murder was something new.

She kept his interest, which was something in and of itself.

She wasn't ho-hum ordinary. She was something entirely fresh and different.

It piqued his interest.

* * *

><p>Shadowing a homicide detective might not be a bouquet of roses for everyone, but Castle loved it. And it wasn't about gathering information for his newest character.<p>

Okay, not entirely about gathering information.

Mostly it was about her.

Every day with her was magic. Every day brought out new emotions, new expressions, new witty jokes and comebacks that had his mind spinning to absorb and counter. Each and every moment with her showed Castle just how much of a mystery she was.

That was the reason he kept coming back at first. He wanted to know more about her.

Of course she couldn't make it easy for him. Four long years to cultivate a friendship that he treasured almost as much as his family, and she made him work each day for it.

Then he fell in love. He had to fall in love with a sassy homicide detective who took none of his crap. How unconventional of him.

But then again, he never did like conventional life. It wasn't nearly as fun as he liked.

* * *

><p>He had to move slowly. A new feeling for him, the perpetual playboy. But for Kate, he went slow.<p>

He waited four years. Four years, three exes between them, long nights of loneliness, and several near-death experiences before daring to confront her with his feelings. And even then, he feared her rejection.

This was a new fear for him. Rejection from a publisher was one thing; he could always resend it after some tweaking.

If Kate rejected him, he was done. She'd said it before, she was a once-and-done kind of girl. No second chances if he crashed and burned.

She did reject him. Loudly and soundly. He left, knowing that nothing on this earth would ever change her mind.

But then she appeared at his doorstep, rain in her hair and love in her eyes, like some wayward enchantress looking for shelter from the storm. He resisted her charms at first - shielding his broken heart from the cruelty a one-night stand would do to him and her and them - but when she broke down and admitted that she needed him, wanted him, loved him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He accepted the dangers and brought this enchantress into his arms and into his bed.

What happened that night was magic, pure and simple. He could only hope that come morning, she hadn't disappeared in the sunlight along with his dreams.

When she didn't, he dared to believe that this magic was destined to last.

* * *

><p>He was right. It lasted longer than anything else he'd ever been a part of, except maybe the magic of his daughter's own life.<p>

Long enough for him to get down on one knee in front of God and everybody at the precinct to propose to her. Long enough to meet her at the altar, with her looking like a radiant princess in her white dress and him more nervous than he'd been the first time tying the knot, to enchange their vows of "Always." Long enough to bring a child into the world, and after a time, have another one as well. Long enough to see those children grow up, grow wise, and have children of their own.

Richard Castle truly believed in magic of all kinds. Even the most ordinary of moments has a different type of sparkle to them, making them as extraordinary as the woman he loved with all his heart.

Then again, when you're with your special someone, nothing is ever ordinary.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please! We're starting the countdown!<strong>

**9...**


	43. Rise

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #42: Rise - Like a phoenix, he knew she'd emerge from the ashes in a vibrant display of fire.**

**Words: 632**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Funerals were one of the few things that Richard Castle absolutely despised.<strong>_

_**With good reason. The last time he'd been at one, a dear friend was being buried. **__**Now another friend was joining Captain Montgomery in eternal slumber.**_

_**The ceremony had long ended, but still Castle stood alone in the cemetary, his own tears hidden by the torrential downpour around him. His jacket was already soaked through, but he didn't care. He didn't feel cold or wet. In fact, he felt nothing.**_

_**Funerals were about endings. Things can't get much more final than being planted in the ground in a really nice box beneath a stone marker. Nothing is more permanent than being handed that folded flag. Nothing says "Game Over" more than the words carved in the headstone.**_

_**_**He remembered words spoken as he slowly froze in an icy steel box. **I wish this was one of your books and you could rewrite the ending.** He'd wished back then that he had that power over fate. **_**_

_**_**_**Castle stood before the solitary headstone in the rain, reading the name carved on its smooth surface, and wished he could bring her back.**_**_**_

_**Katherine Beckett.**_

* * *

><p>The nor'easter was raging outside his window when he awoke in a panic, chest heaving and drenched in cold sweat. It took several minutes to calm himself down.<p>

He had to force himself to remember that he'd just had a bad dream. That Montgomery's funeral was almost ten years ago. Kate had survived the shooting. She was sitting next to him in their bed, rubbing his shoulders and asking what was wrong.

Now that he was awake, it seemed almost silly to answer her. But Castle learned a long time ago not to keep secrets from his wife; she would eventually wear him down and then kick his butt for holding out on her. So once he regained his breath, he recounted the scenario of a rainy cemetary, him staring down at her grave. When he finished, they were both silent for a very long time.

Kate finally spoke up. "This isn't the first time you've had that dream, is it." Her tone told him that she wasn't asking a question.

He nodded. "Off and on for the last ten years."

"That bad?"

"The worst was right after the shooting," he admitted. "I had it almost every night for three months."

She bit her lip, recalling how she'd basically shut him out for that entire summer. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Castle shrugged, already brushing it off. "You came back. You always do, come to think of it."

Kate gave him a minxish smile. "I'm just like a bad penny. You can't get rid of me."

"I never would want to." And he meant every word. "I rarely have that dream anymore. Only when there's a real bad storm, like tonight."

A light knock drew attention to their bedroom door. "Mommy? Daddy?" came the soft whimper of their six-year-old daughter. "I had a bad dream..."

Kate started to ask, but Castle beat her to it. "Wanna sleep with Mommy and Daddy?"

"Please..."

The novelist quickly moved to scoop the youngest Castle up in his arms, depositing her between him and Kate. Johanna snuggled under the covers next to her mother. "Sorry," she quietly said. "Should be a big girl now."

"It's okay, baby," Kate said soothingly, wrapping an arm around her child. "Daddy just had a bad dream too."

Blue eyes blinked owlishly. "Daddy was scared?"

"Yeah," Castle said as he joined his family. "Daddy had a bad dream. But it's okay now, because Mommy and Johanna are here." He smiled at Johanna and Kate. "You're both here with me."

The storm continued to rage outside, releasing lightning and thunder and dumping a flood's worth of water on the streets of New York City. But in the Castle loft, the small family slept safe in each other's arms.

* * *

><p><strong>A sweet fluffy to round out the angst.<strong>

**Review please!**

**8...**


	44. Cuddle

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #43: Cuddle - Long days at the precinct sometimes demanded time on the couch.**

**Words: 349**

* * *

><p>"Rick, I'm home!"<p>

"Hey Kate. How was work?"

"Oh, you know, bad people leaving a trail of dead bodies."

"Same old?"

"Same old. How's Jo?"

"Sound asleep. Her fever went down around two."

"That's good."

"Did your lead in the Cleo Fuller case pan out?"

"Boyfriend's alibi is rock-solid. Hey, scoot over."

"Huh?"

"You're taking up all the couch."

"I've been sleeping."

"Well you're not now, and I'm tired from a long day at work. Get me a drink."

"Yes, ma'am."

"..."

"...Red wine?"

"Please and thank you." *sigh* "Oh God, this feels good."

"Couch to your liking? Pre-warmed and already broken in for your napping pleasure."

"You gonna join me?"

"All right. Scoot over."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Comfy?"

"Very."

"..."

"This wine is amazing."

"Glad you like it."

"When did Jo last take her medicine?"

"About two hours ago."

"So we have two hours."

"Yup."

"...Stop waggling your eyebrows at me. I'm too tired for that."

"Awww, Kaaaaate..."

"Don't "Awww Kate" me, I've been working all day."

"So have I."

"Writing is brain work, not body work. I've been doing both."

"I could help relax that last part...ow! That hurt!"

"Stop squirming, I didn't hit you that hard."

* * *

><p>Around four, little Johanna tup-tupped her way downstairs to get a glass of water, clutching her toy bunny with one arm. Her headache and fever were gone, but she hadn't heard from Daddy in hours.<p>

When she got to the landing, Johanna's flushed face broke into a wide smile. There on the couch were Mommy and Daddy, fast asleep and snuggled in each other's arms. Neither seemed like they were going to wake up very soon, and that was perfectly fine for the little girl.

Since she was a big girl now (five was an important age, Daddy said) Johanna went into the kitchen, filled a plastic cup with water, and got herself a Pop-Tart. With her hands full she made her way back upstairs to let her parents have their quiet time.

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>

**7...**


	45. Universe

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #44: Universe - He believed that it kept them together. She thought it had a twisted sense of humor.**

**Words: 420**

* * *

><p>"Ever notice how we never seem to seperate for long?"<p>

Beckett looked up from her paperwork at the sound of his odd question. "Huh?"

"Think about it," he said, leaning forward in his chair. "For the last five years, we've had a big argument or event near the beginning of summer that made us go our seperate ways for three months. But we always make up just before fall really gets underway."

"What's your point?"

"You can't tell me you haven't noticed this."

"So what if I have?"

"Just an observation." He rested his chin on the heel of his palm, elbow on his knee. "Think it's a sign?"

It was now clear that she wouldn't get back to work, so Beckett leaned back in her chair and sighed, "A sign of what?"

"That we're meant to be together."

"Oh please," she scoffed. "Not that nonesense about the universe keeping us together."

"You don't believe in it?"

"Nope."

Castle pouted. "That's harsh," he mumbled. "How else do you explain the strangeness?"

"You not being able to keep yourself out of trouble," she said shortly. "Don't pout, it's not as cute as you seem to think it is."

The pout didn't completely disappear, lingering as Castle fell to thinking. "Do you think it'll happen again?"

"I thought you just said the universe wants us to stay together. And - " She glanced around to make sure Gates wasn't in earshot before whispering, " - we are _dating_, after all."

"That's true," he admitted.

"Did you do something stupid or dangerous?"

"Nope."

"Then there's no danger," Beckett said blithly, returning to her paperwork. "Maybe this time we can break the cycle."

"Or..." A lecherous smile tugged at his mouth, widening until he resembled the Cheshire Cat. "Maybe we won't..."

Beckett's eyebrow rose slightly. "Oh?" she prodded.

"Well, we could spend the summer together," Castle said. "At the Hamptons...you know, like I asked you to once."

"We could."

"Mother and Alexis would stay in the city."

"They would?"

"If I ask politely." The smile became his winning, ruggedly handsome grin. "So? Care to disappear with me for three months?"

She smiled as her eyes descended to review her paperwork. "Ask me in April. I'll let you know for sure then."

"Ouch. No yes?"

"Something could come up. The universe has a weird sense of humor like that."

"That's harsh, Detective Beckett."

"You sound surprised, Mr. Castle."

* * *

><p><strong>Review please!<strong>

**6...**


	46. Always

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #45: Always - It's their own special, understated, completely unique way of saying everything that ever needs to be said.**

**Words: 293**

* * *

><p>It's their word.<p>

It's their way of saying everything in one word.

It's the only word that's ever needed to be spoken - or heard - when they can't or won't say more.

For the longest time, it was voiced when important feelings were left unspoken. Masters of avoidance they both were, but this single word allowed them the ability to convey soliloquies that would have otherwise faded into unnoticed silence.

When she wants to say _I don't know what I'd do without you _and _You mean more to me than you know _but says, "Thanks, Castle," he replies

**Always.**

When he wants to say _You're stronger than I ever could be _and _I wish I could tell you how I feel _but only says, "Thank you, Beckett," she replies

**Always.**

It's what they say when the real words can't come out, and they get stopped up like a badly clogged faucet and that's the only word that can drip through.

It's the word that has come to mean so much between them.

_I've got your back._

_I'm here for you._

_I'll wait for you._

_I know what you mean._

_I love you._

* * *

><p>It's the word they use in place of "I do" when they finally tie the knot.<p>

It's what they say when their daughter asks how long they've loved each other.

Years after they admit their feelings, it's still used from time to time.

It's the word that Alexis and Johanna Castle smile at whenever they lay matching bouquets on the double headstone.

**Richard Edgar Castle - Katherine Houghton Castle**

**Loving Son, Devoted Husband and Father - Loving Daughter, Devoted Wife and Mother**

**Always**

* * *

><p><strong>What a lovely word. Can't ever think of it the same anymore.<strong>

**Review please!**

**5...**


	47. Character

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #46: Character - He didn't like playing favorites, but he'd always had a soft spot for Nikki that never completely faded.**

**Words: 655**

* * *

><p>It was a lazy morning in November when Richard Castle sat back in his desk chair and surveyed the bookshelves that lined the walls of his study. Each title stood out to his eyes like a neon sign. Every one held an adventure, traversed by a character that he once held dear to his heart.<p>

He thought of all his characters as his children in one way or another. They were born from his imagination and grew through years of hard research and trials. They evolved from simple names and concepts into complex people with their own pasts and demons. Sometimes he'd find a name or a story and from there, another child was born to combat the evil of the fictional crime world.

Many were one-shot stars. More like foster children, he only kept them long enough to grow up and defeated the evil within the story. Once that task was completed, he let them fade away into the halls of anonymity.

For the longest time, Derrick Storm was his favorite. The son he hoped to have, once upon a time. Daring, suave, sophisticated, and smart, he underwent trials that always kept Castle on the edge of his seat, fingers desperately flying to find out what happened next. He pushed Derrick to new heights and depths, spinning new adventures to see just how much the secret agent could develop. Once he'd done everything possible, Castle could find no other course but to kill Derrick off. The spy had gone above and beyond all expectations; he deserved a good, final rest in the graveyard of literacy.

Derrick was what he had wished he could have become - and, as luck would have it, the one who best personified his father.

Then came the NYPD homicide hotshot in heels, Detective Nikki Heat. Sassy, clever, tough, and sexy to boot, based on a woman he fell in love with (if he was being honest) almost at first sight. She and Jameson Rook had their own adventures, both on the streets and between the sheets. After Nikki's crime-solving antics spanned several books and not a few film adaptations, Rick had taken a sabbatical to spend time with his wife and daughters. It wasn't like he couldn't afford to do so, and besides, he needed the time to relax his creative juices.

That had been his problem with Derrick; pushing too hard, too fast, and too far resulted in a passion becoming more like work. Nikki needed a time-out to see if she could be taken on another adventure. And she was content to patiently await his return, a faithful and silent companion.

A surprise gift from Kate, of all people, had given birth to another character. A completely different character from Nikki and Derrick, but somehow a blend of them both. For their nine-year-old daughter who was showing a love of reading, Rick decided to try a different approach with the novel's content.

Her name was Data. A prodigy child in a futuristic world, who finds herself balancing her civilian life while assisting the police force as a crime-fighting cyber-warrior. Her first adventure, Data Hack, was on his laptop screen at this moment. Rick looked at his smartboard and regarded the charts and diagrams spread across the screen. Already the young hacker's backstory was coming together, allies springing out of the woodwork like woodland creatures at the sound of a Disney Princess's singing.

Data was what he wished his little Jo would become - a bright, spunky girl with the potential to change her world for the better.

But no matter what adventures Data or any future character took him on, Rick knew he'd always love Nikki just a bit more than any of his other literary children. Playing favorites, but it was the truth.

After all, she helped bring Rick and Kate together.

* * *

><p><strong>Another fluffy future fic. I think Castle would play favorites with Nikki, wouldn't you?<strong>

**Review please!**

**4...**


	48. Telepathy

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle, _but I claim my OC Miranda.**

**Prompt #47: Telepathy - It was a weird gift, and they used it far too much to be considered normal.**

**Words: 465**

* * *

><p>Miranda Reynolds smiled as she watched Castle and Beckett spinning theory by the murder board. It had been obvious for a few months that they were together. Hell, half the department probably had an idea, but out of respect for their privacy (and the worry that Gates would kick Castle to the curb) nobody outright said anything. The only ones who knew for certain were Esposito, Ryan, and Miranda.<p>

Since they had been together, that weird telepathy they had suddenly increased. Before it had been just finishing each other's sentences and handing over coffee before the other asked for one. Now it translated into the smaller aspects of their relationship. Their shoulders were brushing, heads bowed close to speak quietly. Too close given the almost empty bullpen and lack of anyone around.

Clearing her throat, she rolled over in her chair and said, "Got the victim's financials. Looks like she was withdrawing varying amounts of cash on a monthly basis that wasn't going towards any of her bills."

"Blackmail?" Beckett mused, taking the folder from Miranda.

"Or siphoning off money to run," Castle added. "Think about it. She was in a loveless marriage to Darren - "

Beckett quickly continued with, " - he was having an affair and she couldn't just divorce him - "

" - so what else could she do but stockpile money and bide her time until she could flee?" Castle finished. "But if the mistress found out - "

"She must've ratted her out," Beckett realized. "That's probably why she called Darren that night, to tell him about Marnie's plan - "

" - so he could stop her before Marnie made him look like a fool."

Impressed, Miranda raised an eyebrow and gave a series of slow golf claps. "You two should do kids' parties," she remarked. "That mind-reading thing is a class act."

The partners flashed each other a look. Smiles started to curl their lips as their eyes lit up, clearly having a silent conversation right in front of Miranda that had the arson detective feeling like she was intruding on a private moment.

"So I'll call Esposito and Ryan, see if they've found anything at Darren's place," she said, rolling back to her desk. They never noticed her leaving, too wrapped up in each other. She rolled her eyes. _Sometimes it's cute, and sometimes - _

Suddenly Beckett and Castle slipped off their perch on the desk and sat in their chairs, putting a respectable amount of distance between them. Ten seconds later, the elevator door dinged open and released Captain Gates into the bullpen. "What's the latest?" she demanded. Without missing a beat Beckett delivered the theory that she and Castle had just bandied about.

_- And sometimes it's just freaky how they do that, _Miranda thought.

* * *

><p><strong>Just a slice-of-life moment. Hope you enjoy it.<strong>

**Review please!**

**3...**


	49. Serenity

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #48: Serenity - She woke up content. Something that hadn't happened in many years.**

**Words: 846**

* * *

><p>When she woke up, Kate drew in a deep, contented breath and let her eyes wander to her husband's face. He was still dead to the world, exhausted from last night's launch party, and she didn't have the heart to wake him up just yet. He needed his rest, especially today.<p>

Besides, she still had him all to herself. No _way _was she giving that up just yet.

Shifting as quietly as she could, Kate propped her chin on his chest and turned her eyes to gaze out the window. Snow was falling from the iron-gray sky, turning New York City into a just-shaken snowglobe. Kate smiled softly and sighed again, still unable to believe she was here, with Rick Castle, enjoying such a feeling of peace that she hadn't thought possible before.

But then again, she'd had this exact feeling of disbelief several times over the last few years. This wonder of _Is this really my life now? Is this a dream? Am I'm going to wake up tomorrow, alone in my apartment, my mother's murder board left open? _

That's when she'd remember. The apartment she no longer owned. The murder board she no longer consulted. The crime she no longer needed to solve.

Kate suddenly felt a light touch stroking up and down her bare back, making her skin break out in goosebumps and her insides shiver in delight. "What're you thinking about?" mumbled the still half-asleep man under her.

"Life," she answered simply. "It's funny sometimes."

"I've been saying that for years." Rick shifted beneath her chin, giving her a half-lidded gaze and a smile that held enough innocence to make a child seem world-weary. "So, you ready to face the day?"

"What d'you mean?"

"You forget what today is?"

"Isn't it - " Her eyes widened as the familiar pitter-patter of bare feet on hardwood floors thundered down the hallway. "Oh. Right."

That grin of his grew apologetic. "Brace yourself, we're about to be invaded by the Alliance."

The bedroom door flew open with a bang, and three pajama-clad children launched themselves onto the bed with excited yells. Ten-year-old Johanna landed on her father with a triumphant yell, while six-year-old Sarah squealed in delight as she gripped her mother like a koala. Rick and Kate sat up laughing as they wrestled with their overexcited daughters.

"Da! Ma!" came the shouts of their third child as chubby fists flailed at the foot of the bed. "Up! Up!"

Hearing the demanding cries, Kate poked her firstborn. "Jo, go get your brother."

The eldest Castle immediately crawled off and hoisted her brother onto the queen-sized bed. Hunter Roy Castle had his father's smile even at age three, but the color of his askew curls and his eyes were all Kate. He crawled into Kate's arms and gave his mother a sloppy kiss on her cheek. "Ma!"

"Morning Hunter." Kate smiled at her three children. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas!" they yelled back.

"Well now that they've occupied the area," Rick said dryly, "how about we head out and see what Santa left under the tree?"

Three pairs of eyes, two blue and one brown, widened at the words "Santa" and "tree". Kate laughed as her children quickly scrambled off the bed (Hunter again being lifted by his eldest sister) and took off like quail from the brush down the hallway.

"Well that cleared them out quick enough." Slipping out from under the covers, Rick extended a hand to his wife. "Shall we join the rest of the crew?"

"You'd better go ahead before Hunter decides to open everything under the tree." A devilish smile made the corners of her lips lift as Kate added, "I don't think the kiddies should see what _I _got you for later."

The suggestion set off his imagination, and his eyes lit up with shock and expectation as Rick pounded after their children. Laughing at how easily she could still manipulate the man, Kate cast another look out at the wintery cityscape and smiled contently.

Once, life _after her mother's case _had been just a shadowy dream that she'd never bothered to consider. Now, the case was long closed and the killer caught, her life was her own again. It had been hard to readjust to that, but Rick had been there every step of the way. He'd smiled, joked, and tickled her back into a semblance of normal. And once that normal took hold, he'd promised to never let her go at life alone.

Twelve years later, and he hadn't broken that promise.

Her husband's shout for help was almost drowned out by the laughter of children. "Kate! I need backup out here!"

Kate laughed as well and grabbed her robe. "Hold your position Castle, I'm coming!" she called out, knotting the cord around her waist and padding barefoot towards the living room.

* * *

><p><strong>Future fic and Castle rugrats!<strong>

**Review please!**

**2...**


	50. Ghostwriter

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #49: Ghostwriter - For sh*ts and giggles, she opened the Word document on his laptop and started typing.**

**Words: 769**

* * *

><p>Kate Castle had forgotten how bored she got being home on maternity leave. Stuck at home with nothing to do, her idle hands had caused her to thumb her way through every book in the loft. Nothing had caught her attention for very long, so when she found her husband's laptop on, it seemed like a gift from God.<p>

She'd always heard him saying that writing wasn't as easy as he made it out to be. But Kate had always assumed he just said that out of some territorial need to keep her out of his world. Much like how she used to get annoyed when he tried to play cop in the early stages of their partnership.

Well, he'd adapted to become a damn fine investigator. How hard could this be?

Apparently, it wasn't all that difficult. As soon as she opened the Word document, Kate hadn't stopped typing. The idea had gripped her and come to life with a will of its own, and surprisingly enough, it was like she wasn't really writing. More like she was letting her mind follow a series of clues that was creating a picture of the story.

Her fingers tapped away at the keyboard in high spirits as Kate happily continued writing.

_Second York was almost pitch-black at three in the morning. No surprise, since the new energy restrictions practically shut down the power grid during the night to keep power levels regulated. _

_Data sat atop the Chrysler Memorial and examined the landscape through her new scanner-goggles. Rarely anyone was travelling the streets or the skyways, so heat signatures were practically nil. Infared showed a number of buildings channeling power to keep their security grids active. Flipping on her X-ray filter let Data look at the facility across the street from her perch and see the ground-floor security guard settling in for another uneventful night. _**_That's what he thinks_**_._

_Rolling up her sleeve, Data punched a series of commands into the keyboard strapped around her forearm. A holo-screen popped up in a burst of light, displaying the security codes and clearance levels of the building. Finding her objective took seconds, locked behind three vault doors and the most sophisticated locking mechanism known to modern man._

_"Jack," she mumbled into her comm link as she stood up. "I have a fix on the Delta virus. Twelfth floor, research laboratory A13."_

_"Good going, Data," was her handler's reply. "SYE are mobilizing. ETA one cycle."_

_**Sixty minutes. Frackin' Second York Enforcers. **"We don't have that much time, Jack."_

_"You can't in there without backup."_

_Data exhaled through her nose, irritated at being spoken to like a child. She was fourteen, for pity's sake. **Which is why you're working for SYE and not serving life, **said her sensible side. "Jack, they're planning to move the virus in the next half-cycle. If Calvox manages to sell it off, who knows what damage it could do to Second York's infastructure."_

_"I know, but protocol states - "_

_"You brought me into this case because I'm sanctioned to work outside your precious protocol. __I can't remote-hack at this distance, so that means I'm going in."_

"Hey honey."

Kate looked up with the guilty look of a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar. Rick stood in the doorway of his study, shoulder against the frame and his arms crossed, favoring his wife with a smile that was part proud, part smug. "Whatcha doing?" he drawled.

"Um..." She looked at the laptop in front of her, then back up at him, and hesitantly said, "Playing pinball?"

"Liar," he said with a teasing note. "You're writing, aren't you?"

_Well, no need to lie now. _"Yeah." Her fingers drew back from the keyboard. "Just...I'm so bored, Rick."

"I know Kate, I know." He sauntered around the desk and leaned over her shoulder. "Whatcha got so far?"

"Just a little scrap of nothing..." Kate's voice teetered off as he watched her husband's eyes zip through her writing as fast as lightning. When he finished reading, those blue eyes looked over to catch hers with a look of sheer amazement. "What? Does it suck?"

"No, it's...it's perfect. Absolutely perfect." Rick quickly snatched up the laptop and made a beeline for the living room, calling out, "Hey Jo! Remember when I said my next character would be like you? Come in here and listen to what Mommy came up with!"

* * *

><p><strong>Little prequel tag to #46: Character.<strong>

**Review please! Just one more to go!**

**1...**


	51. Partners

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Castle._**

**Prompt #50: Partners - Castle and Beckett, Heat and Rook. It took a killer to bring them into being, and several more to forge an unbreakable bond.**

**Words: 876**

* * *

><p>They met at his book signing.<p>

He was bored and wanted something different. A bestselling novelist who'd just killed off his leading character, he hit a rut and was just coasting on his fame. He wanted inspiration, and when it walked up behind him, he couldn't contain his excitement. Finally, a new playtoy.

She was investigating a murder that was _definitely_ something different. When she saw that crime scene straight out of one of her favorite author's works, she could barely contain her excitement. When she did meet him, she couldn't contain her disappointment. Just a playboy.

The writer and the detective. Together they solved a murder and caught a killer who would've easily gotten away with it. That's how he sold it to the mayor to stick close to her, "research" for his newest character.

This was how Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook were born.

* * *

><p>It's hard to tell when they started to care beyond the scope of their partnership.<p>

Before her, the only women that mattered in Castle's life were his mother and his daughter. Every other female was either his publicist, an ex-wife, a muse, or an adoring fan. As such, he had no problems with simply sleeping with said women once and not thinking about it. But when he started feeling differently about Beckett, a woman he was physically attracted to and viewed as a muse, it startled him. And to his surprise, he wanted something more with her.

Before him, Beckett never let anyone close enough to matter. Sorenson, Demming, Josh - they knew and loved her, but none of them really _knew _her. Knew the reasons behind what she did, knew why she pushed them away once they came close to her walls. But with Castle, she realized that he'd been pulling her walls down one brick at a time. And to her surprise, she didn't shy away.

After a few close brushes with death and saving each other's bacon more than a couple times, those feelings started to grow even more.

This was how Heat and Rook evolved into more than just "a detective and her journalist."

* * *

><p>Love is a difficult emotion to label. It's also difficult to determine when simple friendship becomes love.<p>

It was during that time Beckett stood on that bomb that the question first came up. "Who fell in love with whom first?"

Castle likes to think she fell in love with him that first day. All that playing hard-to-get, rebuffing his advances so harshly, threatening and causing actual bodily harm - it's like how a little kid teases the one they like. But when her harshness softened to playful, when threats turned to taunts, and she started throwing innuendo like fastballs, Castle realized then that he was falling for her, not the other way around.

Beckett likes to think he fell in love with her that first day. All that flirting, the juvenile comments, the blatant cockiness of a man used to women swooning in his wake - the trademarks of a playboy who found a new conquest. But when his comments matured, when cockiness stopped being haughty, and his flirting made her smile instead of snap, Beckett realized that she was falling for him, not the other way around.

This was how Heat and Rook fell in love.

* * *

><p>When he got down on one knee and proposed on their swings, her heart nearly stopped. He loved her, that she knew, but after Meredith and and Gina, was he willing to do it again? With her?<p>

When she gave him that shocked look as he held up that ring, his breath caught in his throat. She loved him, that he knew, but she'd said it before, she was "a once-and-done kind of girl." Would she be his?

Their eyes met, a host of emotions swarming between the blue and brown gazes. Shock (mostly her), confusion, hope (mostly him), panic, and love (from them both).

There was no Heat or Rook here. Just Castle and Beckett, standing on the edge of something they both want, but are unsure if the other shares the sentiment.

* * *

><p>He's writing the newest draft for Data Hack late one night in his study when he looks up. She's brewing coffee in the kitchen while perusing her latest case file when she glances over his way.<p>

Their eyes meet, but not on each other. No, they land the line of hardback tomes that dominate the bookshelf between them. Because of them, Rick Castle has a loving wife, three wonderful children alongside Alexis, and as magical a life as one could hope for. Because of them, Kate Castle has a devoted husband, two beautiful daughters and a darling son, and a life she'd never thought possible.

Each hardcover depicts a familiar sexy silhouette. Each volume contains a different adventure. That shelf will forever remind them of how Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook have come a long way and become far more than simple characters. How fiction could be based off reality so well that reality itself took a few pointers.

That is how Nikki Heat and Jameson Rook will forever be remembered.

Always.

* * *

><p><strong>And that concludes this Fifty Things collection!<strong>

**Thank you all for following and favoriting and reviewing!**


End file.
